


Golden Hills

by Vivion



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Sex, And Dipper has a brief panic attack, Asphyxiation, Bill being a badass, BillDip, Crimson Peak Inspired, Emotional Manipulation, Entrepreneur!Bill, Hand Jobs, Human!Bill, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Older!Dipper, Older!Mabel, Rating will most likely change, Side Relationships - Freeform, Slight Blood Play?, and momentarily crazy, gold everywhere, like too much gold, will add more tags as the story progresses, writer!dipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 52,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5026393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivion/pseuds/Vivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dipper falls for a mysterious stranger, his humdrum life takes an unexpected and dangerous turn. </p><p>Trapped in a house of ghosts, nightmares, blood and gold, Dipper can't decide between his own sanity or his new life with a man who may have more than just a skeleton in his closet. </p><p>Based on the movie Crimson Peak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which the Lord Arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo! This is my first ever public fanfic, and my first story for this fandom. Any sort of feedback is wonderful and welcomed, I would love some constructive criticism and reader's thoughts. I haven't written much in a long time, so I apologize if anything seems weird or if the pacing is awkward or the characters are a bit out of character. I'm slooowly getting back into the groove of things. 
> 
> I really wanted to do a Crimson Peak-esque type story for Bill and Dipper, mostly because when I first saw the trailer for the movie I couldn't get them out of my mind. Soo, I made this little concoction for fun! Again, hopefully not too weird or anything. Heck, I'm not even sure where any of this is going. But hey, writing this has been so much fun and I'm glad I sat myself down to make it.

Ghosts are real. That much Dipper knew. He's seen them all his life.  He couldn't tell you what else is out there though; he doesn't know what else there is.

It happened, the very first time, when he was merely 13 years old. The house was quiet. Cold. His parents had gone to bed hours ago and Mabel was away somewhere for the night. Dipper was laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking of nothing in particular when it happened. There was a faint click so soft Dipper would have thought it was the house itself if it wasn't for the fact that the next thing he knew the door handle began to shake violently.

Dipper whipped his head around to see the door slowly beginning to open, handle still shaking. Dipper could see out into the long hallway, but the dark made objects look obscure and twisted. He rose out of bed, inching his way closer and closer to the door.

"Mabel…?" he whispered with a nervous laugh. "M-mabel if that's you come out, this isn't funny."

He when got to the door Mabel still hadn't shown herself. He went to close it. Then it rounded the corner.

It was black, blacker than the hallway was. And tall, oh so tall that it touched the ceiling in it's hunched…form? Dipper couldn't even tell what it's form was. It walked slow and staggered, like it's legs were broken at the knees. It's hands were outstretched towards Dipper, finger tips sharp like claws. It faltered once or twice, and from the light in the bedroom Dipper could see that the creature was almost hollow, like it was nothing but scorched skin and bone.

Dipper slammed the door shut with a loud bang that seem to shake the whole house. He hadn't realized how ragged his breathing was as he braced himself on the door. The doorknob finally stopped shaking, but now he was. He gulped once, carefully placing his ear on the door to listen for the creature.

Quiet. Quieter than it was before. Did the monster even make a sound? Dipper listened anyway. There was a long moment where the only thing he could hear was his heart racing in his chest. "Mabel-" he tried again.

A claw tipped hand reached through the door, grabbing at Dipper's shirt as the boy fell to the floor. The door swung open and the creature climbed it's way into the room. It was more hideous than Dipper could have imagined. There was no face, only a gaping hole in a skull that looked like it was placed onto a body wrong. But there was a light emitting from the hole, a dull gold color that was just barely there. Dipper saw that there was possibly once clothes that covered the beast, but now they could barely even be called rags.

Dipper wanted to scream, to cry out to someone, but he knew that nothing would come out even if he tried. He scrambled up from the floor and ran to his bed, darting under the covers and wrapping himself up like a cocoon. He didn't dare look behind him. He wanted to, but he reminded himself of what happened to the too curious cat.

So he waited, tense and shivering. Cold. Why was he so cold? Dipper squeezed his eyes shut, held his breath, waiting for the creature to leave. It felt like an eternity. Was it gone? Was he safe?

Then a hand gripped his forearm, searing claws digging into his skin. Dipper felt something lean over him. He heard the cracking of bones. Through tears he could see the holed in face dip into his line of sight, the dull gold light now ferociously blinding. Dipper couldn't look away, frozen and trapped in his sheets. There was a single beat where it nothing but quiet and cold. Then it spoke.

_'Beware…'_

It's head leaned in closer, and Dipper could have sworn that something like hot breath was blown onto his face.

_'Beware…the golden hills…'_

Dipper felt something stroke his cheek. He whimpered.

 _'Such a fragile child…much too curious…'_ the creature cooed, and it's body leaned in even closer, almost draping itself onto Dipper.

_'Don't trust anyone...anything...the golden hills will destroy your very soul...'_

Dipper heard the bed creak, and the grasp on his arm was gone, leaving gash marks dotted with blood. He didn't move. In fact he didn't move for the rest of the night, his wide eyes staring at the wall beside the bed for hours. There were moments where his own chocked out sob scared him, afraid to think that the creature had come back. But it never did.

The next morning Dipper told his parents what had happened. But they didn't believe him. Of course, how could they? They said it was just a dream, a nightmare, and told him not to think about it.

But Dipper knew better. The scars on his arm was evidence enough for him.

 

**V^**

 

Dipper took the stairs two at a time, manuscript in hand and a small grin on the young man's face. He had been looking forward to this day for weeks now, so much so that he arrived earlier than he intended to for his appointment. Today was the day where he would finally get his novel reviewed for publishing.

To say that he was nervous would be an understatement. In his hands Dipper held months upon months of work, and he still wasn't quite done yet. There were still some changes that he wanted to make, which was part of the reason why he came early. 

The other reason was to see Mabel. Mabel's seamstress practice was located in the same building as Dipper's publisher, and every time Dipper had a meeting he would stop by to talk to her. Mabel had moved out of Grunkle Stan's house some time ago to live on her own. Nothing too unheard of really, but still a bit surprising for this day in age. She was doing good for herself, having learned from none other than Grunkle Stan himself on how to run a business. As Dipper reached the top of the stairs, he spotted a familiar figure. 

"Mabel!"

A young woman turned around, her long brown hair fanning out behind her. A smile stretched across her features. "Bro-bro!" She was wearing her favorite dress today, the pale pink one Dipper had bought her for her graduation gift. It was surprisingly simple considering Mabel's extravagant tastes, but she loved it nonetheless. 

Dipper swept her up in a tight hug, laughing along with Mabel as he spun her around before letting go. 

"You're here early, " Mabel commented, finally eyeing the manuscript in her brother's hands with an eyebrow raised. 

With a triumphant smile, Dipper handed Mabel the manuscript, who took it gently, not wanting to smear the ink.  "I'm finally almost  done with my writing. "

Mabel stood silently, reading the first several pages before flipping to the back and continuing to read. Dipper noticed that there was a soft look in her eyes as she read.  It was really only Mabel and Grunkle Stan who encouraged Dipper to pursue his interest in writing. His parents dismissed it as just a hobby and nothing substantial. It hurt, but he had Mabel and his grunkle, who were more than Dipper could ever ask for. 

"Oh Dipper..." Mabel smiled fondly, finishing up the last couple of sentences. "This is wonderful. He's going to love it!" 

Mabel handed him back the manuscript. "Your writings have improved so much!" 

Dipper chuckled lightly, flipping through his writing gently. "Yeah...I still have some stuff I need to fix up though. I was hoping to do some edits before my publisher came in this morning." 

Before Mabel could respond, the twins heard a loud and familiar laugh. The two turned their heads to find none other than Pacifica Northwest ascending the last few stairs to the floor. She was followed by her parents, and all were dressed similarly: bright, rich colors and expensive jewelry displaying their wealth. 

 "Writing, huh?" Pacifica mocked, leering at the manuscript in Dipper's hand. "Thinking you'll become the next Jane Austin of your time?"

Dipper tensed, his grip tightening on the papers in his hands. Mabel narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "What do you want, Pacifica?" she questioned, her voice edgy. Pacifica scoffed.

"Nothing from you two obviously. My dear parents are here for a meeting. I came along so I could see the new lord from Europe, Lord Cipher."

Dipper raised an eyebrow at that, while Mabel gave Pacifica a quizzical look. Mabel turned to Dipper. "A lord...?"

"A man in a high position of authority and ranking," he supplied for her, noting Pacifica's smug grin before adding, "And also someone who boasts their wealth around, hiring servants to dress them in the morning and lazing about everyday pretending to know a thing or two about politics."

Mabel chocked on her laughter. 

The entire Northwest family glared at him. 

"Well Mister Big Shot Writer," Pacifica started towards Dipper. "Let's see how far you get in your pathetic life with just a measly pen and paper." 

And with that, Pacifica flipped her hair in Dipper's face and followed after her parents. Dipper watched them walk off with a bemused look on his face when Mabel playfully slapped him on the arm.  "Dipper you sass master, did you see the look on their faces!" She attempted to recreate Pacifica's expression but immediately erupted with laughter. Dipper smirked at his sister. This day could not get any better he decided. 

 

**V^**

 

Dipper decided that this day could not get any worse. He sighed aloud, setting his manuscript on the messy desk before him. His meeting with his publisher did not go according to plan. Not only did the publisher not like it, but he also made an entire list of ways it could be better, with the very top suggestion being 'Add romance'.His spun at the very thought of having to redo almost everything. Dipper sighed again and peered at the hustle and bustle around his desk. 

He hadn't been to his grunkle's establishment in a long time, but it was just like the last time he was here. Men flitted about, working on propositions and investments and inventions of every sort. Grunkle Stan's official title was...the Main Supplier.

Grunkle Stan was the most popular investor in the state, and people flooded from all across the country to get funding for their projects. He ran this place with an iron fist, fierce and determined to get whatever he wanted and to remain on top. 

But of course, it was no surprise that he had a soft spot for his niece and nephew. And it also came to no surprise that if anyone so much as touched a hair on his kids he would pummel the life out of them. So for the most part, both Dipper and Mabel were well respected while on the premises, and the two made sure not to get in anyone's way as they worked. Grunkle Stan had been kind enough to have spaces for both Mabel and Dipper to work at if they chose to stop by for a while. Dipper's desk was towards the very front of the main work room, right in front of the building's large double wooden door entrance. Just as Dipper sat down, he heard his name being called over the noise. 

"Dipper! Hey Dipper!"

He turned to see his friend Wendy making her way over to him. Dipper let a small smile slip onto his face as she approached. Wendy Corduroy was the newest member of Grunkle Stan's work force as head of the architectural department. She and the twins became fast friends on the her very first day. Although she was several years older than the two, they all hung out often outside of work whenever they got the chance. 

Wendy swung around Dipper's desk and caught him in a one armed hug, ruffing his already messy hair and a wicked grin on her lips. 

"How've you been, man? It feels like I haven't seen you in years!" 

Dipper chuckled. "Actually it's been maybe a month and half, almost two." 

"Uh huh," Wendy nodded, finally freeing him from her grasp. "Been workin' on that book of yours?"

Dipper faltered for just a moment before replying. "Y-yeah...met with my publisher today actually. Said I needed to make it more...publicly appealing so to speak."

Wendy blanched. "Publicly appealing? What does that even mean?"

"Apparently means I need to add a romantic interest somewhere," Dipper shrugged, pushing the manuscript closer to the edge of the desk. Wendy stared down at the manuscript, a curious look on her face. 

"How would you even add a romantic interest in a ghost story?" 

Dipper sighed yet again. "It's not really a ghost story, there's just a ghost in it. It wouldn't be hard to add one in but..." he trailed off. 

"Well..." Wendy started, "You could always submit it to the newspaper? Surely they would publish it." 

Dipper thought for a minute. Actually, that would definitely be beneficial. Send off maybe one or two chapters to the newspaper to gain some recognition for the book, then, if enough people like it, send the whole thing out to publishing. 

"Wendy, you're a genius!" Dipper exclaimed cheerfully, wrapping his arms around her in a quick hug. Wendy gave out a loud laugh. "Of course I am! How do you think I got this job?"

Before Dipper could retort, the double doors swung open wide, a cold breeze rushing in from outside. Dipper placed a hand on the manuscript to keep the pages from flying and glanced up to see who just arrived. For a moment, Dipper felt his heart beat pick up. 

 The man took a single step inside, letting the door slowly close behind him. He was definitely a foreigner Dipper determined, with his blonde hair swept away from his face and his bright green eyes sweeping the area. He kept a solemn face, and Dipper wouldn't have paid no mind to him if it wasn't for his strange clothing. His suit looked newly pressed, but Dipper could tell that the style was a well few years old. He thanked Mabel for that much, she kept him up to date on all of the newer fads emerging ("Dipper, we can't have you running around here looking like a hobo on the streets! You need to look sharp!" "Mabel, I don't even get out of the house that often, why do I need all of these clothes?" "Again, the hobo look is so last year!" "Why was it even a thing to begin with?"). 

The stranger adorned a bright yellow vest and matching bow tie to boot. He had a cane in one hand, though he didn't seem to have a limp, and a large box in the other. There was something about the man that slightly put Dipper on edge, but he couldn't tell what. He was about to question Wendy about the stranger, but she seemed to be way ahead of him. 

"Hello sir! What can we do ya for?" the redhead asked, stepping out from behind the desk. Dipper saw the man slightly raise his eyebrows, but there was an amused smirk on his lips.

"Good afternoon, madam," he said with a small bow, careful not to tip the box over. Wendy took a step back, surprised, and it was Dipper's turn to raise his eyebrows. "I was wondering if you could assist me in finding a certain Stanley Pines?" 

The man  approached the desk and gently set his box on the corner. Wendy nodded, although hesitantly. "And who might I ask is requesting to meet him?" 

"Lord William Cipher," the man replied, glancing down at the desk, and Dipper froze where he stood. Cipher? Dipper stared at the man before him, the wheels spinning in his head. 

'So this is the man Pacifica was talking about...' he thought, eyeing the lord with a scrutinizing look. He didn't look as nearly posh as Dipper had imagined. And nowhere nearly as polite either. And nowhere nearly as attractive- Wendy snapped him out of his thoughts and he startled lightly. "Of course, sir," Wendy said, seemingly knowing exactly who this William Cipher was. "I will let him know of your arrival." And with that, Wendy headed in the direction of Grunkle Stan's office, leaving the two alone much to Dipper's dismay.

Eager to be out of Cipher's eyesight, Dipper turned to follow Wendy in the direction she had gone. "Pardon me, but I must get going as well," Dipper said, trying his best to be polite. Dipper took the man's lack of response as a que and started on his way. 

"Wait!" 

Dipper turns on his heels, alarmed at the man's tone of voice. However, Dipper soon paled. The lord had set down his cane next to box, and was currently reading the manuscript Dipper had forgotten all about. Manuscript still in his hand, the lord made his way over to where Dipper stood. "Do you know who wrote this?" he asked, flipping over a page to continue reading. Weary of what the man might say, Dipper lied. 

"I'm not sure, sir. All I know is that it's being sent to the local newspaper for publishing soon." 

The lord nodded, but Dipper couldn't read the almost vacant expression on his face. When he didn't say anything, Dipper took a closer look at him. His face was lightly dusted with little freckles, and Dipper had a sudden urge to connect all of them. There was also a faint scar going down the side of his left cheek, extending way past his prominent cheek bone and shallow jawline. Dipper almost didn't catch what the man was saying to him.

"This is really quite good..." he said, flipping over another page. "Wonderful even." 

A sense of pride swelled Dipper's heart at his words, and before he could help himself, he blurted out, "I wrote it."

The lord stopped reading the words and glanced up at Dipper. Dipper hadn't realized how much taller the man was in comparison to himself, at least by 3 or 4 inches or so. Dipper felt his face and neck heat up as Cipher looked him straight in the eyes. "You? You wrote this?" 

Dipper gave him a quick and stiff nod. The man looked down at the manuscript, then back to Dipper. "Ghosts?" he questioned Dipper. 

"Y-yeah..." Dipper said awkwardly, rubbing the back of neck, wishing for the blush to go away. "I've been interested in the paranormal all my life. A sort of hobby really." Dipper didn't dare go further however, not wanting to expose himself to much to a stranger. Cipher nodded slowly, turning his attention back to the page in front of him. 

 "I would have to say the same for myself, honestly," the man said, catching Dipper off guard. He handed the manuscript back to Dipper and picked up his box and cane. "The things I've seen would make even the biggest of skeptics true believers." 

Dipper wanted to question him further, but the man continued on first. 

"Your writing is amazing, sir," he began. 

"Dipper."

The man paused. "Dipper?"

Dipper nodded, "Dipper, it's a nickname actually but it just kind of stuck."

The man smiled. He had almost an animalistic grin, flashing off pearly white teeth that made a shiver go down Dipper's spine. 

"Well Dipper, your work is genuinely wonderful and special. It's been a long time since I've read something as enjoyable and interesting as your piece. Your ghost is quite the alluring character." 

Dipper's mind raced. He wasn't used to anyone but his family and friends complimenting his work so much. It was such an odd and exhilarating feeling. 

"T-thank you, sir," Dipper stuttered out, mentaly cursing at himself for his awkwardness.

The man laughed, his voice echoing through the busy work room like bells. 

"Please," he said, tucking his cane under his arm and reaching out a hand to Dipper. "Call me Bill. 'Sir' makes me feel a lot older than I really am."

Dipper took Bill's hand in his own, giving a firm shake. It was electrifying. 

When Bill let go of his hand, Dipper heard his name being called behind him. Both men looked over to see none other than Grunkle Stan himself walking over. Dipper noticed that his grunkle was wearing one of his newer suits, the one that Dipper knew Grunkle Stan kept for special business occasions. 

"Lord William Cipher!" Grunkle Stan greeted, reaching out to shake Bill's hand. "That's a mouthful to say." 

Bill smirked. "Bill is much easier to go with I insist." 

Grunkle Stan nodded in gruff agreement, casting a look at Dipper. "I see you've already met my nephew Dipper." 

Bills eyes widened at that, and Dipper casted his gaze downwards. Great. Now Bill probably thinks he is a goody two shoes with being related to Grunkle Stan. Dipper looked up once, shocked to find that Bill was staring right at him. He had this strange look in his eye, and before Dipper could decipher that look Bill's face slowly melted away into a fond smile. "I have actually," Bill said, not once breaking eye contact with Dipper. "He"s quite the writer." 

Dipper looked over at Grunkle Stan, who was giving Bill a side long stare. "Damn right he is, probably one of the best in this whole town."

"Indeed," Bill agreed, and both Pines tensed, however for vastly different reasons.

Grunkle Stan let out a huff. "Well alright, no more staggering about. Let's get this meeting underway." Grunkle turned and headed back towards his office.  Dipper watched as Bill followed suit. But then he stopped in front of Dipper. 

"I hope you allow me to read the rest of your novel, Dipper," Bill whispered softly, leaning close into the younger man's space. Dipper felt his face go up in flames as Bill gave him a suave wink before following after Grunkle Stan. Dipper stood by himself, trying to process what all had just happened as men zipped by all around him.  He needed to find Mabel. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boop!


	2. Come with Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Another chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, left kudos, bookmarks and comments! It's literally made my day so much better. 
> 
> I've decided to post a new chapter every Monday and Thursday or so, maybe a surprise upload here or there. I'm also going to at some point make a tumblr account as well, maybe even open up to promts and things like that! 
> 
> So without further ado, happy reading!
> 
> -V
> 
> BTW - again, unbeta'd, so my apologies in advance for any errors!

Dipper found Mabel about 20 minutes later. She and Grunkle Stan were having a heated discussion in Stan’s main office, and from the looks of it, Mabel was pretty upset.

“Was all of that really necessary?” she asked frowning as Dipper slowly approached the two. They either didn’t notice him at all, too caught up in...whatever this was, or they did and were paying no mind to him. “What’s going on..?” Dipper asked, hesitant. Mabel seemed to be mad about something, while Grunkle Stan just looked annoyed.

Grunkle Stan muttered something under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mabel is being too sensitive.”

Mabel feigned mock hurt and gasped loudly. “You’re the insensitive one!” she retorted.

“Uhh…” Dipper glanced at them. “So what happened?”

Mabel huffed. “Grunkle Stan had a meeting with someone and completely shut him down,’ she glared. “Said he wasn’t man enough with his ‘too soft hands’.” Dipper quirked an eyebrow.

Grunkle Stan groaned loudly. “No one ever said I was a nice person. It just comes with the territory. I gotta keep up appearances, ya know.”

“But was all of that really necessary?” Mabel asked again. “Couldn’t a simple ‘no’ suffice?”

Dipper remained silent throughout the entire exchange. He had a certain inkling as to who Grunkle Stan had shot down, but refrained from asking anything more about it. Sometimes it was best to not get too involved with Grunkle Stan’s way of handling his work.

“Yeah, but…” Grunkle Stan paused. “There’s somethin’ about that guy. Somethin’ that I don’t like at all.” Mabel scrunched her nose. “Pardon?” she asked and Grunkle Stan sighed.

“There’s something...weird about him. Like he’s a fake or he’s hiding something. I do not like it and I don’t like him.”

Mabel stared at Grunkle Stan for a moment before throwing her hands up in the air and leaving the office. Dipper stared after her, then turned back to Grunkle Stan, giving him an awkward shrug, before following her. Grunkle Stan watched until both Dipper and Mabel were completely gone from the office. Then, he moved over to his desk, pulled out a slip of paper, and began writing furiously.

There was something strange about that William Cipher, he just knew it. And he would get to the bottom of it.

 

**V^**

 

Several days had passed since the incident at the meeting. Dipper spent most of his time rewriting bits of his novel. When Dipper worked, it was as if he was slowly detaching himself from the world around him, solely focused on the writing in front of him. It wasn’t a healthy lifestyle, and Mabel often chastised him because of it, but it was the lifestyle that he welcomed into his life and refused to let go of. It was a piece of him that he couldn’t just leave behind like he did everything else. He felt the most safe in his little world of writing, and he was glad for it.

But then things changed when Bill came into town.

There were random times in which Bill unexpectedly ran into Dipper, somehow stepping into his life a little bit more and more. And it would always be when Dipper was working, writing. Bill would take a chapter or two, ones that Dipper had already finished, and read them, word for word, not missing a single detail. Bill would ask many questions too, like how the ghost felt about an event that had happened, or what a character was thinking about, what their motivation was.

“The romance is a nice touch,” Bill had said to Dipper one day. Dipper looked up from his current chapter, pencil pausing in the middle of a word. “Do you think so? I know it’s only for a couple chapters, but I wanted to entertain the idea of it,” Dipper explained.

Bill nodded, though he had a puzzled look on his face. “The ghost is undoubtedly a man, correct?” he asked. It was Dipper’s turn to nod. Bill hummed softly and continued.

“It’s interesting since that the main character is also male then, no?” Bill eyed Dipper. “To write in a single sex relationship is a dangerous one I hope you realize.”

Dipper’s eyes widened just a tad, feeling a blush creep onto his features, and forced himself to look back down at the pile of papers before him. “Y-yeah...it’s risky but…” he paused.

“It isn’t really a wrong thing, I don’t think. I mean, the ghost craves something similar to affection and the main character is the only person able to give it to him since he’s the only one who can see him,” Dipper wasn’t really sure where he was going with this, and refused to look at Bill, afraid of what he might see, but continued to talk quietly. “Everyone craves that sort of emotional or physical attachment, nothing wrong with that. Sometimes they find it with someone of the same gender, and people immediately think that’s wrong. But really it isn’t, since it’s something that just comes naturally, and nothing’s really wrong with the general nature of things...”

Bill didn’t say anything for a long moment, and for a second Dipper thought he had said too much, rambled a little too long.

“You seem to know an awful lot about this sort of thing, don’t you?” Bill questioned, a softness in his tone that surprised Dipper. The younger man took a chance and looked up. There was no animosity in Bill’s look like Dipper was expecting, nor was there any judgement. Just understanding.

Dipper felt like his throat was slowly closing up, threatening his very breath. Why was he having trouble breathing? What was this weird beating of heart he felt?

“Y-yeah, yeah I do.” And Dipper couldn’t help the tiny smile that forced its way onto his face.

 

**V^**

 

At the very beginning of every season, the Northwest family held a large gala for the town at their mansion. Dipper often thought that it was their way of making sure that nothing was slipping under their noses and that they kept up their important image. Both Mabel and Grunkle Stan went to the galas, but on those nights Dipper preferred to remain at home, not being bothered with socializing and all the pretending.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Mabel asked for the umpteenth time. She dressed in a fall themed ball gown made of a rich orange material with embedded shades of reds, golds, and some yellows. It fanned out gracefully whenever Mabel moved about, with the lights of the room catching all of the colors in the dress. It was gorgeous. Mabel had made sure so.

Dipper let out a soft chuckle, watching his sister idly spin about while she waited from Grunkle Stan. “Mabel you know how I feel about these sorts of things.” Mabel pouted at him.”I know,” she sighed. “I just don’t like leaving you behind for stuff like this. I swear they’re really fun!”

Dipper dismissed her with a polite shake of his head. “You tell me every time, but I don’t plan on going to one any time soon.”

Mabel frowned, but gave up and let the conversation die. The top of the staircase creaked, and the twins looked up to see their grunkle at the top, making his descent down. He wore a simple suit with a orange bow tie that matched the main color of Mabel’s gown. “Are you ready to head out?” Grunkle Stan asked Mabel, who responded with a nod.

“Grunkle Stan, please tell Dipper that the gala is going to be incomplete without his handsome presence there.”

Stan just rolled his eyes. “Kid, Dipper has not gone to a single one of these shindigs, and I don’t know what will make him. Now c’mon, we don’t want to be late.”

Mabel gave one final pout, but waved to her brother as she and Grunkle Stan left through the front entrance. “See you later, Dip-Dop!” she called back, and Dipper waved back to her.

Dipper shut the door after the two, then made his way upstairs to his bedroom. The large house was silent, save for the creaking of floorboards when Dipper walked.

It was quiet. Cold.

Dipper shivered as he walked into his room, closing the door behind him with his foot. The room was lit in a dim light, just how Dipper had left it earlier. He walked over to the bed and laid face down onto the soft mattress. He laid like that for a while before flipping over to stare at the ceiling. He let his mind wander and closed his eyes.

That’s when he heard it.

The faint sound of something being dragged along hardwood. Something sharp.

Dipper’s eyes flew open, but he didn’t move an inch. He only listened as the sound grew louder and louder. His breathing hitched, his heart was racing like it wanted to be free from his chest.

Dipper realized that the sound was coming towards his room.

He leapt from his bed, scrambling to the bedroom door. Against his better judgement, he gripped the doorknob tight and flung open the door. By this point his breath had grown ragged and he was shaking. Dipper peered out into the empty hallway, waiting for something to happen. The sound had stopped, but it sounded like it was right outside his door. Dipper placed a hand over his heart, willing it to calm down. He went to close the door, but something stopped him.

In the middle of the hallway, there look to be a pool of black liquid forming on the hardwood. Dipper watched, frozen, as a skeletal hand thrust its way through the floorboards, slamming down on ground. Then, it slowly began dragging its body from the liquid. The creature looked to only be made up of bones, but Dipper could tell that there must have been a thin layer of flesh on the thing. It was covered in rags, torn to shreds like a bear had mauled them. There was something about the creature that was familiar, but Dipper didn’t spare a chance trying to remember it. He turned to look back into the room, trying to find anything to protect him from the creature emerging from below.

Then there was a warm breath on his face, against his neck.

Dipper whipped around so fast that he completely fell backwards onto his butt. The creature was standing above him, it’s body hunched over as if it was too tall for the room. It’s limbs were outstretched, trying to grab at Dipper, then it too fell to the floor in front of him. Dipper pushed himself away in panic as the creature crawled towards him.

It’s face. Dipper hadn’t noticed its face. The caved in face emitting the bright, golden light.

Dipper felt a panic attack coming on. His breathing increased with every push away from the thing, but the creature didn’t show any signs of stopping. Dipper’s back hit the bed, and he watched in terror as the thing brought itself within a foot from him.

‘ _Dipper_ …’

It spoke, though how Dipper hadn’t the slightest clue.

_‘Beware...the golden hills…’_

Dipper brought his arms over his face, curling into himself. He didn’t want to see it, he didn’t want to see anything. He wished he were blind and deaf, to be cold, quiet. He felt something cold and thin stroke his face, and he whimpered aloud.

“Dipper?”

His eyes flew open, darting every which way. The creature was gone, away from him.

“Dipper are you alright, man? Why are yous on the floor?”

Dipper moved shaken limbs away from his body, hesitant. He looked out back into the hallway and saw Soos standing where the liquid was before, now seemingly gone from existence. Soos looked concerned. Dipper carefully lifted himself off the ground. He was still trembling, his senses on high alert, but he did his best to hide it.

“Uh, yeah, I’m alright,” Dipper lied, “I sort of fell.”

He could tell that Soos didn’t believe him for a second, but he didn’t push it further. Dipper hadn’t even realized that the man was even here.

“I thought it was your day off…?” Dipper asked as he stumbled his way over to the doorway.

“It is, but Stan told me the other day about the broken sink in the kitchen, so I came over to fix her up,” Soos explained. Dipper gave him a slight look. Soos had been working for his grunkle for a long while now as his own personal handyman. Which made sense, considering just how old the large house was. Grunkle Stan even had him repair things at the office building, and Soos never once complained. The man really needed a vacation Dipper thought.

“Oh!” Soos exclaimed a little loudly, partially startling Dipper. “There’s some man here to see you.”

Dipper stared at Soos dumbly. “Some man? Did he say who he was?”

“Something…” Soos trailed off. “Something Cipher. Yeah, that was it! Cipher. You know him?”

Dipper nodded slowly, confused as to why Bill would be here at this hour. “I do...tell him I’ll be down in a minute.”

 

**V^**

 

Bill stood in the main hallway of the Pines residence, walking slowly in small circles. He wouldn’t admit that he was nervous, mostly because he wasn’t. Or at least he didn’t think so. But he had a job he needed to do.

He heard a small commotion upstairs, but paid no mind to it. He stopped walking though when he saw the man who introduced himself as Soos coming down the stairs.

“Dipper said he would be down soon,” Soos told him. The man seemed to be a little on edge, and Bill wouldn’t know why, but again he paid no mind to it.

“Thank you,” Bill said, and Soos nodded to him before walking into the next room. Bill quirked an eyebrow at him behind his back. For an odd reason, Bill thought the man’s form was like that of a question mark.

Bill heard a creak from the staircase, and he turned his head quickly to the top of the stairs. There he was. The man he had grown accustomed to seeing so much.

Dipper made his way down, keeping a tight grip on the railing. He was dressed simply in only a grey button up, untucked, and black slacks. Bill noted the curly hair atop his head looked more frenzied than usual, and there was a look in his eye that Bill could only relate to fear or worry. But, down just a tad bit lower, Bill saw the sheepish smile Dipper had, a smile Bill knew was meant for him.

“Hello Bill,” Dipper greeted him as he went down the last few steps.

“Good evening, Dipper,” he replied, stepping closer. Dipper was tense, he could tell from the way he held his shoulders, but didn’t comment on it.

“What are you doing here so late?” Dipper inquired, casting a swift look at what Bill was wearing. “And dressed like that no less.”

Bill chuckled, peering down at himself. He sported his best suit, black and crisp, along with a pale yellow button up and black bow tie. He switched out his regular cane for his shinier, golden one. The buttons on his suit were also gold, complementing the cane well. His shoes were newly polished as well, looking brand new.

Bill ran a hand through his short hair, looking back up at Dipper, making eye contact.

“I was waiting for Stan to leave actually.”

He could have laughed at the way Dipper’s face scrunched up in his confusion.

“Why?”

“So that I could finally start on my way to the gala of course.” Dipper stared at him.

“The gala?”

“It is a gala, correct? The one at the Northwest mansion? They had invited me to be their special guest.”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “They tell everyone that, Bill.”

The older man shrugged, his cane knocking on the floor. “I presumed so, but I’m still attending with that mindset.”

Bill received a nod from Dipper, and another question. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here…”

Bill smirked, loving the awkwardness that was coming from Dipper.

“Well, I came to ask if you would like to be my special guest and attend the gala with me.”

Bill saw Dipper’s eyes open wide like saucers, noted the way his chest started to rise and fall slow like his breath was being taken from him.

“I...galas aren’t really my t-thing…” Dipper stuttered. “I wouldn’t be any fun to go with. Maybe you could meet up with Mr. Northwest’s daughter, I know she was interested-”

“Dipper,” Bill stopped his rambling. He leaned in close to Dipper, eyes never straying from those beautiful brown ones. “I want _you_ to come with me.”

Dipper looked up to Bill through eyelashes full, a blush creeping on his features. Bill fought the urge to touch those features, to caress his fingertips over the prominent jaw bone, stroke under his chin, to clench around his throat.

“Just you,” Bill reiterated, his voice soft.

Dipper gulped. “A-alright. Let me go change and I’ll be right down.”

Bill took a step away from the man and watched his ascent up the stairs, disappearing from his view. And yet the grin on Bill’s lips refused to disappear. Same to the weird feeling he felt in the pit of his stomach.

He chose to ignore it. Tad was expecting them.


	3. A True Waltz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what?? I have a tumblr now! My username is ladyvivion. I'm using it mostly as another platform for the story if that's easier for some people? I'll be updating it regularly alongside with the AO3 version. Also if you want to shoot me a message via tumblr, go right on ahead! ^w^ 
> 
> I think this is my favorite chapter I've done so far, even if the pacing is a little wonky towards the end. Buuuuut anywho, enjoy reading!
> 
> -V

The gala was in full swing when Grunkle Stan and Mabel arrived. The music was rich, loud, lively. At least a hundred people or so were dressed in their absolute best, but none could compare to that of the Northwest’s. Pacifica was in the center of it all, donning a bright blue, ruffled gown with diamonds in her perfectly curled hair. She was surrounded by suitors, and Mabel supposed that her parents couldn’t be more proud of their daughter. Strangely enough though, Mabel noticed that Pacifica seemed to really only be entertaining them all. As if she were waiting for someone in particular to come her way.

Mabel didn’t dwell on it much, really only focusing on having a good time with her friends Candy and Grenda, who showed up shortly after Grunkle Stan and herself. And that’s what she did for a while, dancing the night away with anyone who was willing to join her. She hadn’t really noticed the piano playing until Grenda punched her in the arm and Candy was pulling them all towards the song. Mabel looked over high shoulders to catch a glimpse of the musician.

It was a man Mabel had never seen before in town. From behind, his black hair was neatly groomed, almost shiny under the lights. He wore a black tailcoat and black pants. That’s all Mabel could tell as the stranger continued to play. The song he played almost lulled Mabel to sleep standing. It was soothing, enchantingly so, and the man played with such precision and delicacy as if he practiced the melody everyday.

When he finished playing, he rose from the bench and turned around to his applauding audience. Mabel was surprised to see that his face held no smile, only a solemn, untelling expression. He straightened out his white shirt and black tie without so much as blinking an eye to everyone. “I bet he’s a prude,” Mabel whispered to Candy and Grenda, both chuckling aloud. Then suddenly, the applause started to die down, and Mabel expected the Northwest’s orchestra to begin playing again. But they never did. Mabel went to ask her friends, but found them focused something going on behind her back.

In fact, everyone now was looking behind Mabel for some reason. Mabel herself turned as well, surprised to see a certain someone entering the ballroom.  Lord William Cipher strolled into the room, his smile blinding, his clothes dashing, cane ever present. Except that wasn’t why she was surprised.

With Cipher was none of than her brother Dipper, arm in arm with the man. He dressed in his best suit, the one Mabel herself had tailored for him, the dark black one, with a deep green vest over a crisp white button up and black tie. Mabel squinted. She was pretty sure that Dipper had no idea how to even tie a tie. Did Cipher..? Mabel saw the faintest tint of a blush on Dipper’s face as Cipher pulled him along to the crowd. Pacifica and her mother pushed past the now murmuring crowd, eager to talk to Cipher.

Mabel watched the four of them converse, straying away from Candy and Grenda a bit. Dipper for the most part didn’t say much, letting Cipher do most of the talking to the two Northwests. She saw Dipper look over, and the two of them locked eyes. Mabel gave him a look.

‘What are you doing?’ the look said.

Dipper gave a swift glance to Cipher before looking back at Mabel. He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

Mabel pointed at Cipher.

Dipper’s eyebrows drew together, looking confused.

Mabel slapped her hand over her face, exasperated. She then pointed at Cipher again, more urgent, and mouthing his name for emphasis.

Dipper still looked confused, and Mabel nearly laughed as she saw understanding washing over him. He again looked at Cipher, and Mabel saw the blush grow a little deeper in color. She raised her eyebrows at him, and then it finally clicked. When she caught Dipper’s eyes, he flinched at her creepy smirk and her waggling eyebrows, then glared a warning. ‘Stop it, Mabel.’

Mabel did this weird thing with her fingers, wiggling all of them at Cipher. She laughed at the glare she got, but stopped when she noticed that now Cipher was looking at her. She quickly hid her hands behind her back, motioning to Dipper to look to his side. He did, his eyes widening a fraction as Cipher looked him. He asked a question to Dipper, gesturing a little to Mabel, who had no idea what said question was. Mabel smirked again as she watched Dipper shake his head a little too quickly. Cipher nodded to him, and turned back to the Northwests, looking interested. Or maybe he was pretending to be interest Mabel thought.

When the four finished talking, Cipher and Dipper made their way over to Mabel. By then, the orchestra was playing again and the crowd dispersed into their own little groups. “Hey Mabel,” Dipper greeted her as they finally made it over. Mabel still had that smirk on her face. “Hey! Who’s your...friend here?” she asked, pausing in the middle of her sentence for effect. It worked, actually making Dipper tense a little and his blush a little darker than before.

“Uh, Mabel this is Bill, Bill this is Mabel,” Dipper explained rushed, gesturing between the two of them. Bill reached out his hand, smiling broadly as he took Mabel’s hand in his own for a firm shake.

“Lord William Cipher, I presume?” Mabel asked, already knowing the answer, before letting go of his hand.

“That is I, my dear, but please call me Bill. It’s easier and less of a mouth full,” Bill said.

Mabel gave Dipper another look, one she knew he wouldn’t know was, and said:

“My brother has quite the opinion on lords I will tell you.”

Dipper tensed again, understanding where she was going.

“Oh?” Bill turned to Dipper. “Is that so?”

“Uhhh…” Dipper didn’t know what to say, looking from Bill to Mabel.

“Oh yeah,” Mabel began. “He said that lords -”

“H-hey Mabel!” Dipper interrupted her all too loudly, awkwardly, getting in her face. “I think Candy and Grenda are looking for you!” Dipper spun his sister around and lightly pushed her in the opposite direction. Mabel looked back with a lecherous grin. “It was pleasant to meet you officially Bill!” she called back before heading off into the crowd.

Dipper sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. That was a close one he thought, turning back to Bill, who was looking at him curiously. “That was your sister, am I correct?” Bill asked. Dipper nodded. “Yeah...she’s a seamstress actually.” Bill hummed, an unreadable expression on his face. “Speaking of siblings,” Bill began, grabbing Dipper by the hand, leading him towards the piano. Dipper didn’t think his blush could get any worse at this point, so he gave up and let himself be lead by the man.

Bill brought him before a tall man with black hair, looking incredibly bored much to Dipper’s surprise.

“Dipper, I would like you to meet my friend Tad,” Bill grinned, stepping closer to Dipper.

“Tad Strange,” the man said, eyeing Bill, then turning to Dipper. “Pleasure to meet you.” Unlike Bill, Tad was less eager to shake hands, and Dipper was more than okay with that. He got a weird feeling from Tad despite his normal demeanor. Like he was kind of hiding something. Dipper had a feeling that he didn’t want to know what.  “Nice to meet you, Tad,” Dipper said politely, inching away from the man, though also putting himself closer to Bill.

There was a ringing sound, like someone hitting a glass cup, and Dipper turned to see that crowd had formed a large circle, with Mrs. Northwest right in the middle.

“Now that everyone is here,” she smiled, her teeth too white, “Welcome to the Fall Gala! We have in our midst two new faces this evening.” She gestured for Tad and Bill to come forward. Tad went, Bill following shortly after, but also dragging Dipper along with them until he reached the outer edge of the circle before letting go. Dipper ended up right next to Pacifica and, somehow, Mabel, Candy, and Grenda. Mabel nudged her brother’s shoulder playfully, and Dipper gave her a quick glare before turning back his attention to the center.

“We would like to give a warm welcome to Lords William Cipher and Tad Strange,” Mrs. Northwest exclaimed as the two made their way over. The crowd clapped loudly, and Bill nodded to everyone and waving, smirking, while Tad seemed to ignore the applause.

When they reached her, Mrs. Northwest turned her attention to Bill. “I understand that for tonight you will be demonstrating the waltz, correct?” Bill nodded politely. He looked over to Tad and nodded again, and Tad turned and made his way over to the piano again. Bill then took center stage, taking the spotlight as he slowly walked about the room.

“The waltz, having its popularity rise after it was introduced in Vienna, is a very popular dance in Europe, especially among the nobility at balls and gatherings, much like this one” Bill started, looking about the room. “Thomas Wilson, a fine, educated man and dancer, published an instruction manual on how to properly waltz, A Description of the Correct Method of Waltzing. I myself have read the manual, actually.” Bill walked over to a garnished table, pulling out a lit candle from the candelabra that sat at its center. “It was quite informative I must say, and enjoyable to read. Although I do have my own opinion on how to perfect the waltz.”

Bill looked across the crowd, holding the lit candle in one hand and his cane in the other. “A true waltz,” he said, moving towards where Dipper stood, “is so smooth and fluid a candle in the hand of the lead dancer will never go out. Now that, ladies and gentlemen, requires the perfect dancing partner.” Bill stopped in front of Pacifica. Her face lit up, eager to hear the words she wanted him to say. Bill gave her a sweet smile.

“Would you mind holding my cane, dear?”

Pacifica’s face fell into despair, visibly slouching her once tall posture in embarrassment. Mabel snorted. Bill handed his cane to her, then stepped in front of Dipper. The younger man looked up to him.    

“May I have this dance, Dipper?” he asked, leaning close, so close their noses could have almost touched. Dipper stood in shock. He looked at Mabel for help, but didn’t find any as she stared at him with this weird look in her eyes. Dipper turned back to Bill, who was waiting expectantly. “I don’t - I don’t know how to waltz…” Dipper said meekly, wanting to shy away from the attention he wasn’t used to receiving. Bill’s smile never faltered. “Then allow me to teach you,” Bill replied, holding out his hand.

Dipper was about to say no, but he dared a look over to Pacifica. He startled. She was giving him the meanest death glare he had ever seen from her. It was like she was trying to choke him just from her eyes alone. He gulped.

“A-alright,” Dipper gave in, placing his shaking hand in Bill’s. Bill’s grin grew unnaturally wider as he pulled Dipper to the center of the circle. Dipper looked down at his feet, a worried look on his features. He had never really waltzed before, not successfully anyway. And definitely not successful enough to not burn out a candle. He felt something come under his chin, urging his head upwards. Bill was staring down at him, looking right into his eyes. Dipper felt as if his gaze was meant to smoulder him. “Don’t worry, Dipper,” he said, leaning down close to his ear, “It’s not as hard as it may seem.”

Bill let go of his chin and placed his hand on Dipper’s waist. His grip was firm, but not painful in any regard. It was a comforting presence. Dipper placed his hand on Bill’s shoulder. He was still shaking, but not as much as before. Bill caught his other hand and managed to intertwine their fingers, holding the lit candle in their hands. Bill outstretched his arm, Dipper did the same, until he could extend it no further, locking his joint in place. Dipper continued to look at Bill as the other man brought their bodies closer together, chest to chest.

And then the music began to play.

And Bill took the lead.

And Dipper never felt lighter in his entire life.

Bill moved them to the beat, quick in pace, and Dipper was able to keep up, never missing a step once. Whenever they spun, Dipper looked at the candle. It always seem to get close to blowing out, extinguishing the already tiny flame, but it never did. Oddly enough, it looked as if at times it grew in size, shining brighter even with golden hues.

Dipper found that he didn’t want to stop dancing. He wanted to stay this close to Bill as much as possible, to be by his side, as Bill lead him around the large circle. For once, Dipper didn’t care about anything. His novel. The people staring, judging. The looks. He felt alive, free, happy, all because of this strange man. He didn’t want to let go of the new found feeling.

It was beautiful.

Dipper heard the music slowing, feeling Bill slow down as well. They came to a light halt in the center of the room. Dipper’s breathing was heavy, the adrenaline still running through his veins. He looked up at Bill and found him staring right back. He was breathing heavily from his nose, his own face slightly flushed. Bill let go of Dipper’s waist gradually as the music finally hit its last few notes. The two looked towards their outstretched hands, having forgotten all about the candle.

They found it to still be alight. A cheer erupted somewhere from the crowd, and Dipper thought that it had come from Mabel, but soon they were drowned by a loud applause. Bill carefully untwined their fingers, bringing the candle to rest between them. Dipper gently took the candle from Bill. His hands weren’t shaking anymore as he looked to Bill with a smile on his face.

Then, Dipper blew out the candle.

 

**V^**

 

Grunkle Stan noticed how close his nephew and the newcomer were getting. Ever since the gala, the two began spending more time together, going out often for dinner at fancy restaurants and coming home later and later with each passing evening.

It aggravated him to no end. And it didn’t help that Mabel was encouraging their antics. Grunkle Stan had known about Dipper’s preferences of men long before Dipper even understood. And he was okay with it because he had cared for Dipper like his own son when his actual parents refused to do so. What he wasn’t okay with though was him.

Lord William Cipher. And now his friend, Tad Strange. Something didn’t sit quite right with Stan about the two of them. And his suspicion was correct when he received an unexpected visit one day.

He was walking into the building when he spotted him. Grunkle Stan quickly made his way over to where he sat, seating himself next to him.

“Ford.”

His brother looked up from his book.

“Lee.”

There was a moment of mutual understanding in the silence. Then, Ford pulled a package from his coat.

“Don’t read this here. Read it in your office, away from prying eyes,” Ford warned him, eyeing the busy workers around them.

“Is it that bad?” Grunkle Stan asked, shoving the package under his arm.

Ford nodded. “They’re an interesting pair, with an even more interesting history.” He rose, dusting off the imaginary dirt from his overcoat. “Whatever you do, make sure he stays away from Dipper. He doesn’t need to be caught up in this mess.”

Grunkle Stan nodded, watching as his brother quickly left the building. He then got up himself and made toward his office, the package held tightly.

 

**V^**

 

The following night, Stan held a small dinner party, inviting both William Cipher and Tad Strange. He was more tense than he had ever been as he, Dipper and Mabel greeted the guests. Upon the pairs arrival, Dipper’s face lit up brightly, making his way over to Bill, giving him a warm hug.

Grunkle Stan’s teeth clenched, his stomach turning.

As Mabel announced everyone to make their way to the dining room, Grunkle Stan made his way over to Bill and Dipper, interrupting their conversation.

“Dipper,” he said, his eyes never straying from Bill. “I need to speak with Lord Cipher in private if you don’t mind. Hurry onto dinner, and tell our guests we will be out shortly.” Bill looked confused and Dipper looked worried, but he did as he was told. Once Dipper was out of sight, Grunkle Stan motioned for Bill to follow him.

The two never spoke as Grunkle Stan led him into his den, closing the doors behind them. Grunkle Stan moved over to his desk, shuffling papers around.

“May I ask what is the meaning of this?” Bill questioned, irritated.

“Shut it,” Grunkle Stan uttered, his tone dangerously low, just as Tad Strange opened the doors to the study. Bill grew tense then, his eyebrows drawn together as he looked over to Tad. Grunkle Stan saw the malice in Tad’s eyes.

“I knew there was something about you two that I didn’t like,” Stan began, pulling out several newspaper articles from the piles of papers. “I just couldn’t figure out why. Now I know.”

He moved out from behind the desk and shoved the newspaper clippings in Bill’s hands. Grunkle Stan saw the color from Bill’s face drain, his features going slack. “How did you…”

“I’ll agree to your proposal,” Stan said, and both Bill and Tad’s heads snapped to attention, “On two conditions.”

“Mr. Pines, you have to believe me, I really do love-” Bill was cut off.

“First condition,” Stan began, not bothering to mask the evident anger in his voice as he went back to his desk. “You two will get the hell out of my town and never come back. I’ve already arranged for a train ride out into New York.” He began scrawling out a check, ripping it from the book and shoving it in Bill’s hands, crumpling the newspaper clippings.

“And what is your second condition?” Tad inquired, a hard edge to his tone.

Grunkle Stan glared at him. “The second condition is that you,” he jabs a finger on Bill’s chest, “must break Dipper’s heart. If not, I will tell him everything.”

“Break his heart?” Bill repeated dejectedly. Tad saw the sadness on Bill’s face and was momentarily surprised.

“You heard me. Break his heart,” Stan gruffed out. “Tell him his writing sucks, call him a baby, I don’t care. So long as you are completely out of his life, your secret is safe with me.”

Bill looked at Stan, then to Tad. His friend looked like he wanted to talk with him, but not here. Bill gave a sigh, nodding.

“As you wish, Mr. Pines.”


	4. Porcelain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! This is a reupload because AO3 has been acting really weird lately. Anyway, I added the violence/gore tag due to this chapter, but it's really not that graphic..? IDK. If some mild gore ain't your thing, be weary of this chapter. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -V

Dipper watched as Bill, Tad, and Grunkle Stan entered the dining room, the trio silent. His eyes met Bill’s, and he saw the saddened look in them. Dipper wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t think during the middle of the dinner party would be appropriate to do so. So he sat throughout the entire event, not saying much to anyone really, keeping a trained eye on the man, looking for any hint or indication as to what was wrong. Bill gave him nothing. He didn’t even look his way once.

Toward the end of the night, Grunkle Stan rose from his seat at the head of the table to speak. “It was a joy having you all here tonight,” he said, looking about his guests. “But I’m afraid it’s time for you all to get out of my house.”

The party goers all laughed humorously, excluding Bill and Dipper however.

“But before we go, we should allow some parting words from our newest arrivals in town.”

Dipper’s brows furrowed, and he looked to Mabel, who was sitting across from him. ‘Parting words?’ he mouthed to her, in which she shrugged in reply.

Then suddenly Bill rose from his seat next to Grunkle Stan, followed shortly by Tad. Dipper’s heart felt like it was slowing as he listened to Bill speak for the first time this evening.

“Thank you, Mr. Pines. This trip has been a lovely one I must say, full of lovely and wonderful people. But I say with much regret that come morning, Tad and I will begin our departure back to Europe.” Bill looked around, his eyes finally resting on Dipper’s wide ones. “This will be our first, and our last trek into America.”

Dipper felt like he was being buried under cement as the guests awed and clapped their goodbyes. From the corner of his eyes he could see Mabel looking at him worriedly, her mouth slightly ajar. Dipper shakily got up from his seat, muttering a barely audible ‘Excuse me’, and removed himself from the table, exiting the dining room. 

He could hear several chairs moving against the hard floors, but the sound couldn’t even compare the screaming questions in his head.

Bill was leaving?

Leaving for good?

Leaving him?

Why didn’t he say something?

Was he just playing with me?

Was I just his pastime?

Did he not even care?

Dipper stumbled up the staircase, but a hand caught his sleeve and turned him around. There, in front of his face, was the man in question.

“Dipper…” Bill said quietly.

For a moment, there was a small flicker of hope in Dipper. But it came crashing down when Bill pulled out something from behind him, handing it off to Dipper. It was the last several chapters Dipper had let him borrow.

“Dipper,” Bill began again. “Your writing...It’s horrible. Your words are bland and generic, you must really work on your originality. You’re just copying whatever other authors have written, better authors than you, in hopes to succeed. It’s quite apparent that you’ve never fallen in love with someone before. Hence, you have nothing to draw from save from your imagination and the stolen words of others. I really think you should quit-”

An unknown hand struck Bill across the face so suddenly that he had to take a step back. He hadn’t seen her come up to him, but there was Mabel, her hand in the air, standing next to him and Dipper. He had never seen her so furious ever. She looked like she was about to kill him.

Bill snapped out of his stupor when he noticed Dipper rushedly ascending the staircase, not once looking back, gripping his manuscript tightly in his arms. Mabel stepped in front of him.

“Get out of our house,” he threatened darkly, jabbing him in the chest like her grunkle had earlier, forcing him down a step lower. She gave him one last look before rushing after Dipper, calling his name numerous times.

Bill didn’t say a word, slowly turning himself around to face the crowd of guests that formed at the base of the stairs. He didn’t look at any of them, not even Tad. He only focused on one.

And that was Mr. Pines, hidden away towards the very back of the small crowd, nodding his approval.

 

 

**V^**

 

 

The early morning sun was bright, shining it’s rays through the windows of the bathroom area. Grunkle Stan was all alone in the multi-stalled bathroom that was eerily quiet for the morning.

He had arrived early to work, eager to get out of the house, away from the undoubtable mess he had created under his very own roof. He didn’t regret his actions per say, but he hated seeing Dipper like that. There wasn’t much he could do. He supposes that’s what Mabel is for.

He stared into the bathroom mirror. His face was haggard with the dark bags under his eyes from the little sleep he got and the five o’clock shadow he had working. He sighed, taking his eyes away from his reflection and onto his bag he brought, opening it up and shuffling around to find his razor. He heard the door leading into the main entryway open, and he looked over to see Wendy peeking in, her eyes covered with her hand.

“You decent?” she called a little too loudly.

Grunkle Stan rolled his eyes as he turned on the sink faucet. “Yeah.”

Wendy chuckled, moving her hand away to look at him. “Need me to get you anything, Mr. Pines? You know, your vitamins, your meds, your toupee.”

“I don’t have any of those things,” Grunkle Stan said bluntly.

Wendy laughed again. “Riiight. How about the morning paper then?”

“Sure, if that’s what it takes to get you out of my hair,” Grunkle Stan grumbled half-heartedly, earning him another laugh.

“You got it, Mr. Pines!” Wendy snapped her fingers and left, leaving Grunkle Stan alone yet again in the quiet.

He hadn’t even been paying attention really as the sink overflowed, spilling out water onto the floor.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered, going to shut off the faucet when something caught his eye. He looked back over toward the entryway again, having sworn he saw a figure darting into the locker area. He squinted, cautiously making his way to where he saw the figure.

“Hello?” he called out, trying to sound casual as possible. No need in letting someone know you’re on edge he thought. He stopped when he reached the door and peered about, but again didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He sighed. “Maybe I really do need to start takin’ meds,” Grunkle Stan said to himself as he walked back to the flooded sink. 

He went to shut off the sink when he felt it. There really was someone in the bathroom area with him. 

He felt it right behind him.

He turned sharply to see who it was, the sight of the figure however made him pause.

“What are you doing her-”

The figure pressed it’s hand over Grunkle Stan’s face, covering completely. It was only a matter of mere seconds as the figure forced him back around to the sink, letting go of his face only to press it against the back of his head. Before Grunkle Stan could even scream, the figure shoved his head down against the edge of the sink. There was a sickening cracking sound from both from the sink and Grunkle Stan’s head.

Then the figure repeated the action, several times, each one resulting in blood splattering all across the floor, the sink, the mirror, mixing in beautifully with the overflowed water. There was one final shove, and Grunkle Stan’s forehead hit the sink edge so hard that it broke. The porcelain sink exploded into a million broken shards, with various large and small pieces finding their way into Grunkle Stan’s face.

He crumpled lifelessly to the floor, the water rushing over his limp body, washing most of the blood away.

 

 

**V^**

 

 

The early morning sun was bright, shining it’s rays through the windows of the bedroom. Dipper was all alone in his bed, listening to the quiet around him.

His body was sore, so sore. And he was still shaking, though he stopped crying hours ago. He buried his face in his pillows. He wanted nothing more than to drown in water.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Dipper mumbled loud enough for whoever was behind the door to hear. Dipper heard the door creak open and someone walking in slowly.

“Dipper man, are you feelin’ alright?” Soos asked gently.

Dipper raised a hand above him, waving an unknown gesture to the man.

“Uh, hey man, that guy came back this morning and dropped some stuff off.”

That guy? Dipper slowly got himself upright facing Soos. “Do you mean Bill?”

Soos nodded. “He brought back your story.”

Dipper looked away, eyes resting on the floor, finding it to be extremely fascinating at that moment in time.

“Do you want the letter too?”

Dipper perked up at that. “Letter?" 

Soos nodded, setting the two items onto the nightstand before shuffling out the bedroom, gently shutting the door behind him. Dipper paid the handiman no mind, his eyes boring into the letter.

He couldn’t tell if the letter was mocking him or tempting him. He risked it. Dipper grabbed the letter and ripped open the seal. With shaky hands, Dipper pulled out the letter and opened it. The letter was covered in the most beautiful cursive handwriting he had ever seen. It was strangely feminine, with every i dotted and the t’s crossed perfectly. It reminded Dipper of how crude his writing could be, and for a moment he was embarrassed about it. He shook it off though, and began reading.

 

_My dearest Dipper,_

_By the time you read this, I will have gone. I know that you must still be absolutely furious with me, I know your sister was. But I must tell you, that with every ounce of my heart, my soul, that I am madly and deeply in love with you. I never meant to ever bring harm to you. It was your great uncle that put me up to it, to break your heart. He didn’t approve of me, Dipper. He called me a failure, a penniless failure and a poor excuse for a lord. He didn’t want us to be together, therefore forcing his hand between us, between my love for you. On his behalf, my sister and I will be leaving the Marionete Hotel this morning and begin our voyage back to Europe._

_You may not believe me, but that is alright, my Dipper. You will always remain in my heart, in my mind, every day til I no longer have the strength to breath, no strength to even speak your name. You may not even begin to imagine just how much I wanted to hold you last night and tell you that every venomous word that escaped my lips were lies. Complete and utter lies. Dipper if you find it in your heart to forgive me, I will die a happy and fulfilled man._

_Forever yours, til the end of time, Bill_

Dipper was breathless. He lowered the letter from his face, his attention turning to a photograph on his night stand. It was a photo of Grunkle Stan, Mabel and himself from years ago, when the twins first under his care. They all looked so happy, each smiling so broadly. He felt his heart tear, his chest burn, and he flipped the photograph onto it’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to look at his grunkle’s face.

With every bit of strength he had left, Dipper got up from his bed, made himself decent, and rushed out the door, the letter crumpled in his hand.

He didn’t hear it, but from the nightstand, the glass that contained the frame cracked like porcelain.

 

 

**V^**

 

 

Dipper rushed into the hotel as fast as he could. He passed nobility probably, people dressed in fancy gowns and expensive jewelry, all of them probably looking at him with disdain, judging his probably messy appearance. And they probably thought that Dipper cared. But he didn’t.  Not at all. All he cared about was finding him.

Dipper ran to the concierge, refraining to wince at the loud sound that bounced off of golden walls as his hands slammed onto the desk. The man behind the desk jumped, then glared at Dipper.

“What is the room number for a Lord William Cipher?” Dipper asked breathless.

The concierge looked down at his chart of rooms and persons. “Mister is in room 0108, sir,” the man said blandly. Dipper took off again, ignoring the concierge yelling after him. He ran down one hallway, counting the room numbers.

0100…

0102…

0104…

0106…

Dipper darted into the next room. It was spacious, lavious, properly decorated for such an esteemed hotel. But it was missing something. Someone. Dipper ran and found himself in the bedroom. There were two maid chatting happily, both of whom startled when Dipper barged his way in.

“Did the man in this room already leave…?” Dipper asked them, his chest heaving.

One maid looked to the other before answering. “Yes, the sir departed some hour or so ago.”

Dipper nodded to them, fighting the urge to cry again. “T-thank you,” he told them politely, rushing out of the room. His hands were balled into fists, his head bent low. Of course, he thought to himself. Of course he already left. Forever. He walked out into the hallway.

“Dipper?”

He froze. Was he just hearing things? Surely he wasn’t...here…

Dipper turned in the direction in which he heard his name called.

And there he was. Bill. Lord William Cipher, in the flesh.

He stood a ways down the hallway, but Dipper could make out every detail of him, from the top hat that rested on his blonde hair, to the dressy tailcoat he adorned with his signature yellow vest and his black bow tie, right down to the glossy cane that he would occasionally swing around, nearly hitting Dipper whenever the two walked side by side, but didn’t quite reach him.

“Bill…”

Dipper ran with what little strength he had left, collapsing into Bill with a tight hug. Dipper heard his cane drop to the floor, and within seconds felt warm arms circling him, bringing him close. He felt Bill burying his face in Dipper’s hair, breathing him in, as if he didn’t believe he was actually there.

Dipper hugged Bill tighter before loosening his grip on him. Bill kept the younger man steady, winding his arms around his waist. Dipper stared right into those soft eyes, his own watering up. “Oh Bill...I thought I had lost you forever.”

Bill smiled fondly. “Silly boy you are, you could never lose me. I’d be with you all eternity.”

Dipper laughed softly. There was a moment where they both stood, not paying attention to the onlookers, staring into each other’s eyes as if the very depths of their souls could be reached and secrets revealed.

“I love you,” Dipper said. He felt Bill tense in his embrace, and for a split second, Dipper thought that the man would run away, that his letter had also been a lie.

But that all went away when Bill let go of Dipper’s waist, only to cup his face in his soft hands. Bill drug Dipper like that, until they were less than an inch apart, their noses touching, heads slightly tilted.

“And I love you…” Bill breathed, then his crashed his lips onto Dipper’s. Dipper felt like he was dancing again, snaking his arms around Bill’s neck, pulling him as close as he possibly could. His lips were softer than Dipper had imagined. Fuller. It was a weird sensation to kiss the man, a man, in public like this. But all Dipper could focus on was the feel of those lips moving against his own.

Dipper felt like he was losing track of time, the very idea of it slowing down as he realized that he was also losing oxygen. He broke the kiss, his face still being held delicately by Bill, who was rubbing circles on his cheek with his thumb.

“Dipper,” Bill spoke just above a whisper, “How would you feel about coming to live with me?”

Dipper’s eyes widen at the proposal. “...in Europe?”

Bill nodded. There was worry etched into his features, worry that Dipper would refuse.

Dipper smiled. “I would be honored to live with you, Lord Cipher.”

Bill broke out in a large grin, hugging Dipper close for a second before pulling away fully. “It would be my pleasure, Mr Pines,” Bill chuckled. The two began walking back to the main lobby, hand in hand, fingers laced together. They conversed happily with one another as they neared the hotel doors.

They both startled though when the doors flew open. Dipper was surprised to see Mabel charging in, looking panicked. Mabel spotted them and ran over, nearly crashing into them.

“Mabel! Mabel, what’s going on?” Dipper asked, going more and more concerned as he watched his sister break down right in front of him.

“Dipper, he’s - Grunkle Stan’s - he -” she began to sob. Dipper moved away from Bill, wrapping an arm around her. “What? What about Grunkle Stan?”

Through heaving sobs, Mabel said,

“Grunkle Stan’s dead.”

 

 

**V^**

 

 

The trip to the morgue was a long and silent one. Dipper and Mabel walked into the cold room side by side. Bill decided to remain outside, not wanting to intrude. He too hadn’t said a single word since the hotel. Dipper was surprised to see Wendy and Soos here, looking just as defeated as the twin’s felt. But he was even more surprised to see Ford here as well, talking with the doctor. As he and Mabel neared the cloth covered table, the doctor acknowledged them.

“Thank you for coming,” the doctor spoke. “We needed you here to correctly identity if this is truly Stanley Pines.”

The twins heard Wendy grumble. “Look, I already told you it was him!”

“Yes, I know, but it’s obligatory for the direct family to do so,” the doctor explained to her, then looking to Ford, “And we need all persons to be present if possible.”

Everyone looked at the twins expectantly. Dipper looked to Mabel and found her to be looking at him. “Dipper I - I can’t-”

Dipper nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder. Slowly, he made his way to the operating table. He gripped the edge of the cloth and lifted it off the top half of the body. He gasped, dropping the cloth.

It definitely was Grunkle Stan. But it looked as if he was hit by a train. His face was covered in stale and flaking blood. His nose was twisted in the wrong direction, caving in. What little skin could be seen was either pale or blotched purple or black. There was a gaping hole the size of a fist just above his left eye. From it, Dipper could see the scarred tissue, the fractured skull, protruding of the brain -

Dipper took a step away from the body, gaging, trying to breath. Through the sting in his eyes, Dipper confirmed that it indeed was his great uncle.

Mabel stood, her gaze unwavering from the body, frozen in place.

Soos took off his hat, covering his eyes with it.

Ford looked at his brother, an unreadable expression on his face.

The doctor said nothing.

Wendy spoke. “T-this... I don’t think this was an accidental fall…”

Both the doctor and Ford turned to her.

“What?” Ford asked.

“I mean…” Wendy started. “When I came back...the sink...the sink looked like it was broken with force. Like someone shoved him onto it.”

The doctor made a move toward the body, meaning to reposition the head to get a better look at the wound when Mabel stopped him.

“What are you doing?! You’re going to wake him! Don’t touch him!” She scrambled to Stan’s side. “It’s his birthday soon…” she said to no one. “He’s very self-conscious about his age…” She took his limp, cold hand in hers. “That’s why he always wears the nice clothes I make him...to make him look younger...and that’s why - why every Sunday - he goes on walks-”

Mabel broke down for the second time, heavy sobs racking through her as Dipper came to her side, wrapping his arms around her. She cried hard into his shoulder, and he didn’t mind one bit as his own tears fell from his face.

 

 

**V^**

 

 

The funeral was a short one, just like how Grunkle Stan would have wanted it to be. There wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple prayer service in his honor at the gravesite. The afternoon was gray, full of grim and sorrowful expressions and black clothing. At some point it had started to rain lightly, a cold breeze coming through periodically.

Dipper huddled close to Bill under their shared umbrella. Bill had his arm around Dipper’s waist, letting him rest his head on his shoulder. Dipper hadn’t spoken most of the afternoon, and Bill wasn’t going to force him to. He gave him the space he needed.

As the priest spoke, Bill surveyed those who all attended the funeral. Colleagues mostly, though there were friends mixed in, as well as several family members. One family member in particular that caught Bill’s eye was Mr Pine’s brother, Stanford. He had heard Dipper and Mabel refer to him as Ford for short, as he and his twin brother shared similar names.

Ford was looking at Dipper and him intensely, and Bill couldn’t shake the feeling that the man was calculating something in his head, plotting something that Bill didn’t understand. Or knew for that matter. When Bill caught his eyes, he gave a quick nod to him, acknowledging his presence. Ford did the same, and Bill saw his eyes drifting to Dipper.

Bill tightened his hold on the younger man protectively, placing a gentle kiss atop his head. Dipper hugged himself closer to Bill.

When Bill looked up at Ford again, he didn’t miss the obvious glare that quickly vanished from his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it morbid that I really liked writing this? Like, a lot??


	5. Pinetree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH! Literally this weekend has been so hectic!! I couldn't get a chance to reply to comments like I wanted to, but reading all of them made me smile like crazy and gave me happy feels :D. Because of the hectic week (as it is tech week at my school for the musical), this chapter is a little shorter than the others. A filler almost really. But I promise updates will be up to their regular length by weeks end! Again, this is unbeta'd, any grammar mistakes I apologize ahead of time. 
> 
> Enjoy reading!
> 
> -V

_He was running. From what, he didn’t know. Yet he knew that if he stopped, he would surely be caught, strangled, maybe even killed. And so he kept running. He ran for what seemed like miles, endless miles, but he willed his legs to go on. It was pure pain._

_It was in his feet,_

_was he barefoot?_

_In his legs,_

_were there bite marks on his thighs?_

_In his lungs,_

_was he holding his breath?_

_In his heart,_

_was he being stabbed?_

_Nothing was answered. So he kept running. He thought he imagined the blank world around him creeping in, closing locations off, shutting down. Like it was all shrinking. And he felt something move along his waist, wrapping around his midsection, a thick long rope. And it started to pull, and it made him stumble and fall. He crashed into the ground, face first, the pain blossoming over his cheeks and up to his forehead. The rope went slack. He stopped moving, only breathing, waiting._

_Then suddenly the rope was being pulled again, softly this time though. It forced him up, up onto his knees, leaning back along with the rope that was being dragged. It stopped, and he remained how he was, not quite nearly suspended, but the rope was so tight it was keeping up. Someone stepped into view._

_The creature was tall, looming over him. He had no distinct features, only dressed in dark clothing. And his smooth face only held a mouth. No eyes. No nose. Atop his head was a mop of curly blonde hair, dirty, stained with something like crimson. The mouth was pulled wide across it’s face, grinning ear to ear with sharp and jagged teeth._

_The being bowed lower to the man bonded by rope. It reached up a hand, stroking the man’s face. He tried to get away, to twist his body so that he was out of the creature’s reach, but he found that he couldn’t move, and had to bear it all._

_The creature’s smile grew wider, seeing the obvious fear in the man’s eyes. It swept a dark, forked tongue over it’s teeth and lips, and the man below blanched. It began to whisper, it’s low voice grating and sharp._

_“What a beautiful soul you have,” it cooed, coming closer. “I would love to have a soul such as yours, to feel the purity it would give me.”_

_It stood then, taking a step back._

_“But alas,” it lamented, “A creature as tainted as I, who has no right place in this realm, has no soul. Not a single ounce of the delicious liquid.”_

_The creature tilted its head, and the man felt warning signs go off in his head._

_“No matter, I can always get what I want.”_

_The man held his breath._

_There was a cold silence._

_Deafening._

_“And I always do, Pinetree.”_

_The creature lunged at the man, wrapped snake like fingers around his throat, shoving him back onto the ground. He screamed loud, piercing, as his head hit the ground below. He saw stars, something white, then just blackness. He began to shake._

  
  


 

Dipper woke with a start to someone shaking him lightly.

 

“Dipper…?”

 

He whipped his head to see Bill looking at him, worry etched into his features. Dipper rubbed at his eyes, leaning forward. “M’sorry…” he mumbled into his hands.

 

Dipper didn’t see Bill’s sympathetic smile. “Were you dreaming?”

 

Dipper shook his head. “Nightmare.”

 

Bill nodded slowly. Ever since their departure, Dipper’s nightmares have gotten worse, plaguing him almost every night. Some days he was running from some unknown being, other times he was staring into his dead great uncle’s face. He shivered. Thankfully he didn’t remember too much after he woke up.

 

Once Dipper was out of his fog, he began to remember where he was. He was with Bill, in his carriage, on their way to his manor. It was a long trip, the carriage ride alone was probably six or so hours. Dipper was exhausted, and he could tell that Bill was too. “It won’t be much longer now,” Bill promised, reaching and taking Dipper’s hand in his, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb. Dipper hummed, looking outside.

 

The carriage was surrounded by trees. Trees to tall that the seemed to surpass even the clouds. The forest stretched for miles it seemed, and Dipper had the urge to go exploring. Who knows what he would find? Bill said it himself that the forest was largely unexplored, it was uncharted territory. But Bill advised him not to do so, at least not on his own anyway.

 

“Those trees are pine, by the way,” Bill said casually, he himself also gazing outside. “They’re my favorite kind of trees actually.” Dipper smiled, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of his head, like he was forgetting something. “An odd kind of tree to like,” Dipper commented, and he heard Bill snort. “There’s nothing wrong with liking something a little odd,” Bill said, pulling Dipper close. Dipper rolled his eyes, but let himself be dragged closer to Bill’s side of the seat.

 

Bill suddenly had an idea. “Maybe that could be my nickname for you.”

 

Dipper quirked an eyebrow. “Pine? That’s an awful nickname.”

 

“Not Pine,” Bill laughed. “Maybe...Pinetree? How do you like that one?”

 

Dipper mulled it over, and found that he wasn’t opposed to the name, though there was still something about it that didn’t sit quite right. “I’m okay with Pinetree.”

 

Bill broke out into a large grin, triumphant. “Pinetree it is!”

 

The sun was setting by the time they reached the manor, giving the forest an enchanted look about them. Dipper leaned a little out the carriage window, and was taken back. There was a large, black gate at the entrance to the estate, blocking the outside world and keeping the manor in.

 

The manor was absolutely huge, and Dipper couldn’t help but think that it resembled a castle. It had four floors above ground and several tower like structures at it’s top. The stone is was made out of looked worn down, with some places the stone completely gone, leaving a small gap into the manor. Dipper could also make out that there were some sort of depictions in the stones above the main entryway, but from so far away he couldn’t quite tell.

 

As the carriage got closer, slower, Dipper felt his heart race a little with anticipation. He’s going to live in this enormous manor with Bill and Tad. Just the three of them. Dipper tried his best to get along with Tad, but the man still remained detached from him. Dipper made it his goal to get on Tad’s good side as quickly as he could. It would make things a lot less awkward for everyone.

 

The carriage came to a complete stop, and Bill went and unlatched the door, it swinging wide open. “Don’t worry about the bags, Pinetree. We will get them later,” Bill said as he pulled Dipper out of the carriage with him. Once out, Dipper couldn’t help the look of awe he had as he stared at the manor. Bill laughed beside him. “Like what you see?”

 

Dipper nodded quick. “It’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

 

“It’s been in my family for generations. I even grew up in the attic as a young boy,” Bill explained a bit. “It’s been quite some time though, and it’s beginning to fall apart from the inside. Oddly enough, it’s my personal curse.”

 

Dipper wanted to say something, but an unexpected squiel caught his attention. He and Bill turned to see a fat pig waddling its way over. “You didn’t tell me you had a pig!” Dipper exclaimed, walking over to the pig.

 

“We don’t,” Bill replied, an edge to his tone.

 

“Well we can’t just leave him out here!” Dipper picked up the pig. “It’s going to be winter soon, he’ll no doubtingly starve to death.” Dipper made his way back over to Bill, setting the chubby pig between them. “Can we keep him?” Dipper pleaded.

 

“Anything for you, Pinetree,” Bill agreed, though he didn’t look too happy about it. Dipper was so focused on the little pig that he could barely hold back his scream as Bill picked him up in one fell swoop, holding him bridal style. “We mustn’t dally any longer, it’ll be dark soon,” Bill said as he nudged his head in Dipper’s messy hair, earning a laugh from the younger man.

 

“Of course, Mr. Cipher,” Dipper chuckled, wrapping his arms around Bill, “Wouldn’t want to get caught by monsters out and about.”

 

Bill smirked. “Indeed, we don’t.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely a lot less saddening than last chapter, no?


	6. Facciata Maniero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's pretend I uploaded this on Thursday, deal? Good! Annnyway, I'm using this chapter to make up for the shortness of the last one. And by making up I mean adding in a little "treat". And by treat I mean my first attempt in writing something more sexual. Hopefully it isn't like, too weird or bad, still kinda new at this. 
> 
> I'd to also mention that is the point in which the story will not follow the canon story of Crimson Peak so much and kind of go on it's own path. There will still be connecting moments between the two though, but for the most part not so much. 
> 
> Anywho, enjoy reading!!!
> 
> -V
> 
> BTW- unbeta'd as usual, sorry!

Bill reluctantly set Dipper down once he took several strides into the manor. “Welcome to Facciata Maniero,” he said, accent slipping slightly. When Dipper didn’t say anything in reply, Bill turned to see him with a look of awe plastered on his face, though at what Bill didn’t know. The main entryway led into the grand foyer, however Bill wouldn’t exactly describe it as “grand”.

 

It was dark, dank, and falling apart. The ceiling, for example, had a massive gaping hole that penetrated every floor up to the ceiling, casting down a glow from the outside world. Which was the main source of light, despite the large candle holders that decorated the peeling walls. The hand-carved fireplace was situated between the dark mahogany wood staircases, it’s fire already blazing bright. Tad must have already arrived Bill thought offhandedly.  Old and historic paintings lined the walls, portraits of people Bill had forgotten and places he had never seen. There were several chairs placed near the fireplace, but most were covered in a sheet, dust, and cobwebs. Every bit of this place reeked of ancientness and decay, how could Dipper think it was anything less than-

 

“Amazing.”

 

Bill was shocked out of his brief stupor, surprised by the comment. “Amazing?” he repeated slowly, eyeing Dipper as the man walked forward without him.

 

Dipper turned. “You don’t think so?”

 

“Why do you?” Bill countered.

 

Dipper turned back around, slowly making his way to the fireplace. “I’ve never much cared for the modern direction buildings have been taking lately.” He traced a finger on the carvings of a staircase. “Places like these have so much character and life. It makes you wonder what these walls have seen in their lifetime.”

 

Bill, still recovering from his initial surprise, said nothing, but rather walked over where Dipper stood. He gently placed a hand on the man’s waist, pulling him flush against his side.

 

“I’ve lived here all my life,” Bill commented, staring at one of the paintings. “I have seen what the eyes of the walls have seen, the good and the bad. Some of which so dark you’d think you’ve seen hell.”

 

Dipper looked up at Bill with concern. “What do you mean?”

 

Instead of responding, Bill placed a chaste kiss on Dipper’s lips. “I believe that Tad may already be here. Shall we go look for him?” Dipper nodded, but that look didn’t go away as Bill laced their hands together, walking to a large doorway.

 

Dipper found himself in what he assumed was the kitchen. Industrial appliances lined the walls, and at the center of the room was a wooden table and several stools. On one stool sat none other than Tad Strange, and Dipper had to resist the urge to tense up.

 

Tad looked up from his newspaper at the two. “I was wondering when you two would arrive,” he said, folding the paper up and placing it on the table.

 

“We just walked in actually,” Bill told him, guiding Dipper to the table and urging him to sit on the stool Tad previously occupied. Tad hummed, taking several steps to the stove where a kettle was placed on a burner. Tad picked up a nearby tea cup and began pouring something from the kettle.

 

Dipper eyed the man as his back was turned to him. He looked the same as Dipper remembered, though noticeably more comfortable. He wore loose clothing like Bill, but just in darker colors, nothing really distinguishable. The only thing that caught Dipper’s eye was the ring of keys that hung from one of his belt loops, the sound of metal hitting metal ringing every time the man moved about.

 

“Would you like a cup of tea, Mr. Pines?” Tad asked, holding out the fancy little tea cup to him. Dipper nodded, taking the cup from him. “Please, call me Dipper. No formalities here.” Bill chirped in, “Or call him Pinetree!” Dipper snorted at the nickname, taking a sip from the cup. Tad raised an eyebrow but said nothing, staring intently at Dipper. “Do you like the tea?” he asked.

 

“It’s a little bitter, but I do like it,” Dipper said a little too quickly, setting the cup on the table. He missed the look shared between Bill and Tad, communicating silently with each other.

 

“Would you mind making me a set of keys?” Dipper asked, breaking whatever conversation Tad and Bill were having. Dipper was surprised to see Tad tense just a fraction, standing a little taller. “I’m sorry?”

 

“A set of keys. For the doors of the house?” Dipper asked again. “No doubtingly some of these doors must be locked-”

 

“You will, in time, know which doors are and are not locked,” Tad interrupted him, using an authoritative tone that shut Dipper up. “I will possibly in due time create another set of keys for you, but for now I don’t see a necessity for you to have them.” Dipper didn’t miss the way Tad gripped the keys possessively as he made his way to the door, walking out without another word.

 

Bill shook his head, turning to Dipper. “Ignore him, Pinetree. He isn’t in the best of moods.” Dipper said nothing, just wondered why that was, as he let himself be tugged from his stool by Bill.

 

“Come, let me show you where our room is.”

That caught Dipper off guard, his face heating. “O-our room?”

 

“Of course!” Bill laughed. “Where else would you be sleeping?”

 

“In one of the guest rooms…?” Dipper tried, glad that Bill couldn’t see his face.

 

“Nonsense! You will be sleeping with me during your stay here, Pinetree.”

 

Dipper couldn’t find a reason to argue.

 

Bill led him out of the kitchen, into the foyer, and up one of the grand staircases, and Dipper did his best not to stumble. They passed door after door, possibly all of which were locked up by a key on Tad’s key ring. Dipper longed now to explore those doors, the endless corridors that seemed to be everywhere. But Bill didn’t say anything about what was behind those doors and down those hallways, only taking him to a set of double doors at the very end of one hallway.

 

The first thing that Dipper noticed as Bill opened those doors was the king sized bed dead center in the room. Then it was the long, ornate mirror that hung above the bed’s short headboard. Dipper thought it was oddly placed, but he didn’t mention it. There were more chairs, though these weren’t covered in dust and sheets, in the corners of the room and a small fireplace as well. Several large dressers lined one wall that connected to what Dipper assumed was the bathroom. The other wall had one big window that looked out the forest surrounding the manor. It had a cozy feel, and was definitely a lot more cozier than Dipper’s previous living arrangements in his opinion.

 

“I hope you’ll find the room to be adequate,” Bill said to him, making his way over to the fireplace to light the logs of wood that were already there. “D-definitely more than adequate actually,” Dipper stammered out. Bill hummed. “I have a writing desk from the library that I could bring in here for you if you’d like.”

 

Bill finished lighting the fireplace as Dipper responded, “I think I would like that very much if it’s not too much trouble.” Dipper made his way over the crouching man, lowering himself to his level. He rested his head on Bill’s shoulder and Bill let out a contented sigh as he stared into flames. “You feel cold,” Bill noted, carefully turning his head to Dipper so that he didn’t disturb him. “Would you like me to run you a bath?”

 

Dipper didn’t realize just how cold he was until Bill had said something, seeing the goosebumps lining his arms. “That would be nice actually.”

 

Bill smiled, slowly standing at the same time as Dipper. He motioned for him to follow as he led the way to the master bathroom.

 

“This is just a heads up,” Bill said as the walked down the short hallway. “The water will run brown at first due to the dirt and debris that sometimes gets lodged in the pipes.” Dipper hummed his affirmation, not minding really.

 

The master bath reminded Dipper of the foyer, not so much like the bedroom. Rusted pipes lined the walls like a maze. Two pipes connected to the claw foot tub, two to the sink, and one to the toilet. Other pipes went this way and that, with their beginnings and endings leading into the floor. The lighting was dim, atmospheric, inviting in a weird way. Dipper paused in the doorway, watching Bill go about running the water.

 

He turned a nozzle, nothing happened. Then Dipper heard a loud rushing sound, and the pipes began to shake, clanging against the wall. There was a sputter of something dark from the faucet, in which Bill took a step back and a rush of dirty water began flowing. The dirty water then started to clear up, morphing into clear water like magic. “There we go,” Bill said aloud, though mostly to himself, as he grabbed the stopper from the sink and plugged the bath drain. “I’ll go get some towels,” he informed Dipper, passing him in the doorway and heading back out the bedroom.

 

Dipper was left by his lonesome, listening the water slowly fill the tub. With a mental shrug, he started to unbutton his shirt, mulling the day’s events over in his head. He was exhausted, but the good kind of exhausted. The happy kind. Of course, he deeply missed his sister back home, but being here, with Bill, just made him feel so much better. They never really talked about how long Dipper would be staying, though Bill had made it seem like for a long extended amount of time. And Dipper was totally okay with that.

 

Dipper neatly folded up his shirt, shivering more as cold air met with his skin, and set it beside the sink. Then he took off his shoes and socks. He made quick work of undoing his pants, folding them as well and setting them with his shirt. He was hesitant to take his underwear off, but figured that the sooner he got into the tub the better he would feel. So went his last article of clothing, placing them under the folded garments. Dipper’s goosebumps spread, and the chill in the room grew greater. Dipper tested the running water, thankful to find it hot, and switched off the nozzle.

 

Dipper stepped into the tub, careful not to slip. The water burned his skin, but it was pleasant, it warmed him. He lowered himself inch by inch until his entire bottom half was submerged, the water rising to be halfway up his torso.

 

“Have you made yourself comfortable?” Dipper looked up to the doorway. His words failed him, his jaw tempting to slacken as he found Bill holding towels in one hand and a small basket of bottles in the other.

 

And he was completely naked.

 

He was a lot more toned than Dipper had imagined, much more so than Dipper himself, but not to a great degree, enough to show that he was conditioned to labor. His shoulders were broad and his collarbones were heavily defined. Dipper’s eyes betrayed him, straying down Bill’s body, taking in his chest, the surprisingly curved sides, the dusting of hair leading to his -

 

Dipper snapped his eyes back up to Bill’s face, fully aware that his face was on fire, finding that there was a smirk on Bill’s face. “I hope you don’t mind that I joined you,” he said, placing the towels on the sink’s edge. “I found that I could also benefit from a nice, warm bath.” His ending words were drawn out, his accent slipping slightly. Dipper slipped more under the water, his knees finding the cold air. “I don’t mind,” he tried to say nonchalantly. Internally, Dipper was definitely freaking out, and possibly repeating the mantra “oh my god” over and over.

 

Bill strode over to the tub with such confidence, it made Dipper forget how to breath. He set down the basket beside the tub, then took a step into the tub. Then another. And then he was submerged like Dipper, water rising up to his torso. The tub really wasn’t meant for two, and their legs were pressed against each other’s. Dipper looked up and found that Bill still had that smirk on his face.

 

“Never bathed with a man before?” Bill questioned, humor in his tone.

 

Dipper wanted to shrink lower into the water, but didn’t want to risk...hitting something. “I’ve never...bathed with anyone before,” Dipper said sheepishly. Bill nodded, leaning over the edge of the tub to grab something from the basket he brought.

 

“Turn around.”

 

Dipper startled. “W-what?”

 

Bill leaned up to look at Dipper. “Turn around for me, please.”

 

Dipper hesitated, but awkwardly did as he was told. He had to stand to turn around, avoiding any eye contact with Bill as he did so. He knew Bill was looking at him, he could feel it. Once turned, he lowered himself down back into the water, supporting himself with the edges of the tub. He couldn’t see Bill, but he heard the man resume looking in the basket. Dipper assumed that Bill found whatever he was looking for, the water sloshing as the man behind him settled back into the tub.

 

There was a silence, and Dipper was a little tense, his knees drawn up to his chest. He felt the water moving then as ghost hands gently gripped his waist, nearly making Dipper jump out of his skin before remembering that it was Bill’s hands. Bill pulled him closer, propping his legs against the sides of the tub so that Dipper could rest between them. Bill leaned towards Dipper, hands still rested on his waist. “Is this alright, Pinetree?” he whispered into Dipper’s ear. Dipper couldn’t form words, settling for a rigid nod of his head.

 

Bill let go of his waist, and Dipper wanted to whine, but the loss of sensation was replaced with something hard against his back, wet. He recognized it as a bar of soap as Bill began moving the bar across his back, leaving a soapy trail in it’s wake.

 

“I’ve always enjoyed baths,” Bill said idly. He didn’t stop moving the soap until the entirety of Dipper’s back was covered in soap. “They’re always so relaxing, rejuvenating.” Bill set the bar of soap under the water. Dipper felt Bill’s hands on his back. Those hands traveled up his spine slowly, almost tracing the vertebra, and Dipper shivered amidst the still hot water. “It’s amazing what a simple bath can do for a man,” Bill continued, moving the soapy residue up, then down Dipper’s back. He stretched a little forward as he moved his hands around to Dipper’s chest.

 

Wet hands moved over Dipper’s nipples, a light moan escaping his lips as he leaned into the touch. Dipper could barely hear Bill over the sound of his rapidly beating heart. Bill slipped one arm around Dipper’s torso, the other stretching up his chest, up shoulders, finally resting splayed fingers on his throat. Bill urged Dipper to slide back closer to him, hands gripping him possessively. Dipper complied, allowing himself to be moved, and his eyes shot open when something pressed against his lower back.

 

Hard.

 

Dipper heard Bill moan lowly behind him, his grip tightening. The hand over Dipper’s neck slid up further, catching hold of his jaw. Bill’s hand pushed Dipper’s head up, his throat barred to the empty air before him, while his other arm started travelling lower down Dipper’s waist painfully slow, a hand ghosting past Dipper’s erection, gently stroking his thighs. Bill leaned his head close, peppering light kisses on the side of Dipper’s throat, earning more moans from the younger man. Bill paused suddenly, leaning to Dipper’s ear.

 

“Wouldn’t you agree, Pinetree?”

 

Bill then bit onto Dipper’s neck, sucking hard as his hand still held onto his jaw. Dipper gasped, trembling, and Bill was pleased to hear the pleasure in it. He could feel Dipper squirming under his grasp, his breathing becoming ragged. Bill drug his nails up Dipper’s thigh, then, without warning, gripped Dipper’s member and gave a firm squeeze.

 

The cry from Dipper’s lips was the most beautiful, wonderful sound Bill has ever heard, and he wanted more of it. Bill took advantage of Dipper’s already open mouth and slipped two of his fingers inside. “I want to hear your lovely voice, Pinetree, every little noise you make,” Bill whispered. Dipper whined as Bill began stroking him slow. He closed his mouth around the fingers, sucking on them. He felt Bill tense behind him, and for a moment wondered if he caught the man off guard.

 

Then Dipper felt the fingers being ripped from his mouth, the hand on his erection gone too, and he whined again. But then he felt himself being lifted out from the water, forcing him to turn around. The sight that greeted him was shocking. Bill’s face was completely flushed, much like Dipper’s, and his pupils were blown so wide his eyes looked black.

 

Dipper gasped as Bill pulled Dipper down with him, back into the water and onto Bill’s lap. Dipper had to wrap his legs around Bill’s waist in the process, bringing both of their bodies close. Bill wasted no time in attacking Dipper’s lips, kissing him greedily as he used one of his hands to grasp both his erection and Dipper’s. Dipper moaned into Bill’s mouth as the man began stroking both of them at the same time. Dipper locked his arms around Bill’s neck, holding onto the man as if he were the only thing keeping him from falling from a cliff.

 

Dipper lost track of the world, swept up in the tidal wave that was Bill Cipher, fully ready to drown. He didn’t know how longer they were there, but Dipper would be alright if it lasted an eternity.

 

Bill’s hand movement quickened, becoming rough, and Dipper was so close -  

 

Bill cried into the kiss, and one final squeeze had them both cumming, seeing stars.

 

They sat there, trying to regain their breath. Once calmer, Dipper loosened his hold around Bill, cupping his face in his hands. He placed a soft, delicate kiss on his swollen lips. Bill gladly reciprocated the kiss, snaking his arms around Dipper’s waist.

 

They felt content.

 

Happy.

 

Bill broke the kiss, leaning his forehead on Dipper’s. “Are you ready to dream, Pinetree?” he asked quietly. Dipper closed his eyes, nodding.

 

Dipper felt Bill’s arms slip lower and under his rear. Then, Bill slowly stood, holding Dipper up and Dipper tightened his legs around Bill. Bill carefully stepped out of the tub, not bothering to unplug the stopper. He would deal with it later he decided, walking back out to the bedroom, holding his Pinetree close.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is this, goodness gracious.


	7. Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm finally getting back on track after a rather hectic week. This is another simple little chapter, but we get to see a bit of Tad's character and Bill's crazy ol' feelings for a certain Pinetree. Next chapter will feature mostly Dipper, hence why this one is on the shorter side. Anywhooo, as you know, this is unbeta'd, so sorry for little mishaps here and there. 
> 
> Enjoy reading! :)
> 
> -V

Bill woke from his sleep, finding his limbs tangled with Dipper’s. The younger man was pressed onto his chest, his bare arms wrapped around him and his head tucked under Bill’s. Bill smiled in the dark, moving back just enough to place a kiss on top of Dipper’s messy bed head.

 

It was still dark outside, and Bill guessed it might be around midnight. The moonlight shone brightly into the room, illuminating the both of them on the bed. Bill looked over to see that the fireplace had gone out on it’s own. He sighed with relief. _Best not to have another incident_ he thought with some distaste.

 

Bill began to slowly untangle himself from Dipper inch by inch, trying not to disturb him too much. With a successful push, Bill gently rolled Dipper away from him. Dipper slept on peacefully, and Bill hoped he wouldn’t have to suffer another nightmare again. Rising from the bed, Bill replaced some of the blankets back on Dipper to keep him warm without his body. Bill thought it to be a poor substitute, but it couldn’t be helped. He made his way over to a dresser, pulling out a pair of pants and a shirt. He dressed silently, his mind occupied with different thoughts.

 

He turned around, only to stop in his tracks. His eyes found Dipper, still sleeping soundly in his bed. He had turned over, his chest bare to the air and an arm thrown out, as if it were looking for Bill himself. The blankets were moved and precariously placed over Dipper’s lower half, Bill willing himself to not think or look. Then his eyes found Dipper’s face. His soft features glowed under the moonlight, his hair a mess and spiked. He looked so calm, at peace. Beautiful.

 

Bill envied it really.

 

He walked to the bed, moving to Dipper’s side. Bill let his finger trace a faint line up the man rising and falling chest. He wasn’t thinking, allowing his hand to have control, and actually startled to then find his hand over Dipper’s heart.

 

He retracted his hand then, fast, holding it with his other hand.

 

What was that?

 

What was he feeling?

 

Bill let go of his hand, watching where it would go next. It went to Dipper’s face, stroking his cheek lightly, then brushing back some hair on his forehead, revealing that ever peculiar birthmark fashioned there. Bill remembered when he first saw the mark, it had been a windy day and he and Dipper were just leaving the park. The wind had blown off Dipper’s cap, revealing the birthmark to the world. Or rather, Bill, who stopped mystified.

_“What is that?” Bill asked, having stopped walking suddenly._

_Dipper had bent down to pick up his hat, and looked back up at Bill, then looked around in confusion. “What is what?” Dipper questioned him, wondering if he had missed something. Then Bill was at kneeling level in front of Dipper, his hand going to Dipper’s forehead, holding back the messy strands of hair. Bill was staring._

_“This mark on your forehead,” Bill explained, his face in awe. Dipper’s eyes widened at that, and he stood rather quickly, putting back on his cap and displacing Bill’s hand. “It’s nothing, just a dumb birthmark…” Bill stood again and made an attempt to see the birthmark again, but Dipper took a step back from his, becoming out of reach._

_“May I...please take another look?” Bill asked permission._

_Dipper was hesitant, but this was Bill. After a moment, Dipper nodded._

_Bill approached, taking off Dipper’s cap and moving the hair back._

_“So that is where you get your name,” Bill said at last, though to himself._

_“Yeah, I was made fun of a lot for it when I was younger, so I kept it covered up,” Dipper explained. He sounded almost ashamed to have it._

_“I don’t see why people would,” Bill told him truthfully. “It is rather incredible.”_

_Dipper turned bright red at that, taking the cap back from Bill and placing it on his head. Bill smirked lightly, then another question popped into his head._

_“So what is your real name then?”_

Dipper still never did tell him, neither did Mabel, but sure enough Bill would find out one way or another. Bill took one last longing look at Dipper, then made his way out of the bedroom.

 

 

**V^**

 

Bill found Tad in the kitchen reading a paper next to an oil lit lamp. Tad looked up to Bill when he entered the room, giving him a little nod before returning to his reading. “Still awake I see,” Bill said, sliding into the stool next to Tad. Tad hummed, turning a page, the crinkling of paper deafening in the silence. “Couldn’t sleep,” Tad stated briefly, his voice hushed. Bill nodded then, and they sat in quiet for a bit. Tad read and Bill thought.

 

Bill interrupted the silence. “What do you think of him?”

 

Tad stopped reading, lowering the paper as he glanced at Bill. “Him?”

 

“Dipper.”

 

Tad folded the newspaper, turning his gaze to the table, his eyes focusing on a stain there. “I think he’s too young, too vulnerable. But he is here now.”

 

Bill said nothing, and Tad continued on. “There’s a spark in him, one in which I haven’t seen in quite some time. A dangerous spark.”

 

His gaze found Bill’s eyes boring into his. “I don’t like it.”

 

Bill sighed, resting his face in his hands, and Tad merely stared at the man. “I thought you got rid of that pig,” Tad accused lightly.

 

“I thought I did too,” Bill said earnestly through his hands. “It must have lived off of scraps it found.”

 

Bill chuckled, “Like a human.”

 

Tad set down the newspaper on the table, rising from his seat. “I’m going to attempt to sleep again, I suggest you do the same.”

 

Bill nodded into his hands. Tad let a small smile slip onto his face, placing a firm hand on Bill’s shoulder. Bill looked up, surprised.

 

“Don’t worry,” Tad assured him. “We won’t have to worry about Dipper for much longer.”

 

And with that, Tad left the kitchen, heading in the direction of his bedroom. Bill watched him go, saying nothing.

  
_I know_ , he thought, letting his head again rest in his hands. _That’s the problem_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill really needs to sort out his feelings like wow.


	8. Lungs of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fav chapter of mine! I thought it would be interesting to introduce a couple new "monsters" to the story, thus this chapter came about. Happy reading!!
> 
> -V

 

_There was an eye and it was bleeding everywhere and Dipper had no idea what is was doing there and why it was floating in front of him and why there were piles upon piles of gold around him and there was this black giant monstrous machine behind the eye and he could have sworn he heard screaming -_

Dipper lurched awake. His breath was heavy, his muscles tense. It was dark in Bill’s bedroom, the only light coming from the window as the moon shone bright. Dipper turned to seek comfort from Bill, only to find that said man was not in bed anymore. Dipper’s heart sank, pressing a shaking hand to where he thought Bill to previously be lying. Where had he gone? Why?

Dipper shook his head. Maybe he had gone to the bathroom. But when Dipper got out of bed, draping himself in the bed’s sheet, and went to go check, there was again no sign of Bill. Dipper walked back into the bedroom. “Well...I can’t go back to sleep…” he muttered to himself, eyeing the bed wearily. Gruesome images from his dreams flashed before his eyes briefly, and Dipper turned away from the bed. An idea came to him, albeit probably not a bright idea to do in the middle of the night. Dipper went over to Bill’s dresser, stealing some of the man’s clothes and putting them on. He dumped the bed sheet onto a nearby chair, deciding to replace it later, and walked out of the room.

The hallway was just as quiet as the bedroom, save for the barest sound of wind coming from the hole in the ceiling. The mansion looked eerie at night. The elaborate wood pieces erected on the walls cast long dark shadows on the wooden floors. The figures in the paintings looked mocking, as if they were ready to jump out of the frames and attack anything that walked by. That anything being Dipper, who was walking slowly past them, examining them. Dipper hadn’t realized just how unhappy these people looked and made a note to himself to ask Bill who they were.

Dipper strolled aimlessly from hallway to hallway, checking every other door he found to see if it would open. Not to his surprise, they didn’t. Dipper thought back to the keys Tad had and what the strange man told him. Why would these doors all be locked? Dipper asked himself as he tested yet another door, finding it to be locked. It was strange to have a house with so many locked rooms. What would they contain? Dipper rounded a corner, coming into a new hallway. He spotted something far down the way, and from where he stood he couldn’t quite discern what it was. He quickly hid behind the corner, trying to get out of sight.

It was elevator, but that wasn’t what concerned him. Dipper peaked around the corner. In the elevator stood a tall person that Dipper didn’t recognize. It was a man with a mess of black hair and dark clothes. “Tad…?” Dipper whispered, his features scrunching together with confusion. The unknown man pulled a lever on the elevator, and it’s iron gate closed without a sound, the elevator ascending. Dipper waited until the elevator had completely disappeared before coming around the corner again. He quickly made his way to the elevator shaft. From far away, Dipper hadn’t realized how big it was. He peered over the protective barrier and down the elevator shaft. It looked like it could go on for miles. Towards the bottom it looked as if there was a light emitting from something. Something then finally dawned on Dipper.

_Bill has an elevator in his house?_

Dipper heard a creaking sound and peered up to see the elevator making it’s way back down. He heard another creaking then, presumably from the elevator moving, until he had another thought.

The elevator hadn’t actually made a sound as it was going up.

Dipper swiveled around, nearly stumbling over the protective railing. At the end of the hallway was a towering being, illuminated by the single lit candle that Dipper swore wasn’t there before. It’s limbs were gangly and dark, and it’s head was crooked at an unnatural angle so that it could even fit in the hallway. It looked dirty, as if it was buried in the ground and had decided to rise. The candle light cast an unnatural glow to the figure, blazing a dull golden hue.

And it was just standing there, watching Dipper.

And it was watching Dipper with its single eye, bloody, dead center on its sunken face.

And it’s mouth smiled, jagged teeth overlapping.

And Dipper’s breathing stopped as it reached a long arm out to the candle.

And it pinched the flame out with its skeletal fingers.

And the hallway at the end fell into black darkness.

And it felt like the whole entire hallway succumbed to the dark.

And there was no noise.

And Dipper thought he heard a faint, broken whisper in that dark.

_“I can see you.”_

And then he heard the sound of running.

And Dipper wanted to scream.

In a panic, Dipper turned to the elevator, throwing open the iron gates that contained it and falling inside the carrier. In the dark hallway Dipper could hear the running quicken, almost stumbling and bumping into unseen things. He slammed the gates closed and jerked the lever downwards. The elevator started with a jolt and Dipper fell yet again as the elevator began its descent. Above Dipper now he heard the thing ramming into the gates. Dipper prayed it wouldn’t break through, backing himself into a corner.

The elevator was surprisingly fast, reaching the basement in about a minute or so. He hadn’t paid much attention to how many floors he passed really. Dipper rose on shaky legs, hesitant to open the gates, but he’d rather be down here than in the hallway above. He opened the gates and stepped out. He found himself in a rather spacious room. It looked to be a partial study of some sort. There were tall bookshelves that lined the walls, completely full with books and various containers. There were also tables scattered about, and random and strange items were placed on them. To the other side of the room however was definitely not in correlation with the study.

There were massive cylindrical containers, four of them and placed side by side. Each one looked to be about as half as tall as Dipper. When he reached the containers, he found that they were sealed with iron bars. But what contained them was absolutely fascinating.

It looked like liquid gold.

Dipper was mesmerized by it. He reached between the bars and traced his fingertips over the surface, causing the liquid to ripple. It was extremely hot he found, and pulled back his hand. Traces of the gold trickled down his palm, burning his skin, but Dipper didn’t mind, his thoughts focused more on the gold itself. He twisted his hand, watching the liquid drip. He peered over to the other containers to find that they all held the same amount of golden liquid. Why are these here? Dipper backed away from the containers, eager to explore the rest of the space.

The liquid continued to ripple.

Dipper crossed the room, going first to one of the tables. Parchments and scraps of paper were scatter about, all of which containing pretty cursive belonging to a certain someone Dipper knew. He tried to read what it said, but found most of it to be written in another language. Some pieces were actually drawings, detailed depictions of various types of machinery. One in particular caught Dipper’s attention. It was a larger drawing, etched out in ink instead of pencil. It had many features to it, including a drill of some sort. There were little notes as well next to parts of the machine, the one next to the drill saying: _Drill multiple feet into ground, must be 13 feet in length, built from stable metal._

Dipper eyed the containers across the room, the gears in his brain turning. _Was there gold buried underneath the mansion?_

Dipper walked to another table full of books. They were older books, leather bound and worn. Most were mechanic books, others about landscapes, and a few about metals. In the midst of the books were two newer looking ones, each placed side by side. They both had a six fingered hand print on them and a painted on number to label them 1 and 2. 

Dipper gently opened the first book, turning several pages in, and was surprised. Descriptions of various beasts filled the pages, pictures drawn in ink that smeared across the lines. For the most part, the monsters were fantastical: unicorns, gnomes, dragons. Dipper went to the other book. This one was mostly the same, except this one contained more of other realm type of beings, ghosts, apparitions, demons. The words Bill had told Dipper when they first met echoed in his mind.

_“The things I’ve seen would make even the biggest of skeptics true believers.”_

Dipper desperately wanted to take the books, to read them cover to cover, but he had a feeling that Bill would find out they were missing and confront him. So he left them be with a promise to return.

Dipper looked about the room, his eyes falling on a chest under one of the tables. He approached it, taking in how old it looked. The chest was battered and beaten, but somehow still intact. There were strange sigils drawn on the top of it, large symbols colored red. There was a lock on the chest as well, baring Dipper from opening it. He frowned, turning the box on it’s side, disturbing the dust that had collected on it. There was a name printed on the side in unfamiliar handwriting. Dipper wiped the dust off.

_**F.H. McGucket.** _

Dipper picked up the chest, finding it to be pretty light. He shook it once, and heard something large inside hit the sides, but nothing else. Disappointed, Dipper set the chest back down under the table. Maybe there was a key around here? He searched, but came up empty handed. Dipper sighed aloud. He remembered Tad’s key ring, maybe it was on there? But why would it be there? he questioned. Dipper shook his head in annoyance. Why was Tad so possessive of those keys anyway? It’s not like he was going to do anything bad-

There was a rattling sound, and Dipper whipped his head to see the gate of one of the containers shaking violently. _Oh no..._

The bars broke, snapping right in half and flying in all directions. Dipper barely missed one as it scraped his arm, gashing it open as it hit a bookshelf behind him. He cried out in pain, gripping his bleeding wound, somehow mixing the blood with the gold that was previously on his hand.

From where he stood Dipper could see the melted gold moving hectically in its container, spilling out. Dipper found himself stuck, not wanting to go back above to that … thing, but also not wanting to see what was coming out of the container. He watched, horrified, as the gold began to rise from the container. It looked like a human covered in a veil of gold.

It rose at a steady pace, with such graceful and fluid movements that for a moment Dipper was in a trance. The figure was thin, a woman Dipper noted, the gold covering every inch of her bare skin. She looked so fragile, breakable, brittle. She was looking right at Dipper, although she really had no facial features, but he felt it. She held out her hand to him, beckoning him to come closer. And Dipper did, entranced with curiosity that became greater with every step he took.

Before long he was right next to the container, his wound long forgotten. The woman moved closer to Dipper, leaning over the edge to place golden fingers under his chin, raising his head up. It burned like hell, but Dipper wasn’t paying attention to the pain, or rather he had forgotten about it altogether. He stared at her, the gold that enveloped her shone bright in his eyes. Her features looked smooth because of it, her curves defined, and her long hair dripping with gold. She moved her hand to cup the back of his head.

 _“My child…”_ she whispered to him, right into his ear. Even her voice was rich and warm. Dipper wished to hear her voice forever.

_“How sweet of a child you are...you shouldn’t have come here…”_

“Why not…?” he whispered back to her.

She pulled Dipper gently, luring him closer to her, making him lean over the container’s edge.

 _“Because…”_ she planted kisses along his face, starting at his neck, making her way towards his lips. Dipper’s eyes fluttered closed, letting himself to be further pulled by her. The pain of her hot kisses only faintly registered in Dipper’s mind.

She had seduced him.

Dipper was hooked.

 _“You’ll die in a place like this,”_ she finished, placing one last kiss on Dipper’s lips.

She gave one huge tug, and the next thing Dipper knew, he was plunging into the melted gold. He could still feel the woman’s lips on his, but he felt the fire there. He felt that fire consume him, eating his clothes, licking his skin. Dipper finally snapped out of his haunted daze and made a mad dash to the surface. He erupted from the container, the gold splashing out yet again. Dipper was covered in the hot gold.

He didn’t notice that he was screaming.

Then a pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to submerge during mid scream. The liquid gold rushed into his mouth, and he unintentionally swallowed it down, burning his insides raw. He thrashed around violently, but those hands kept him firmly under. Dipper coughed accidently, and he was met with another wave of gold entering his mouth. Through the pain on the outside, Dipper felt gold rushing into his lungs, eating him from the inside out.

The last thing he saw was gold.

 

**V^**

Consciousness came in waves.

The first time Dipper woke was to Bill’s worried face. He was shouting something, and Dipper couldn’t discern if it was at him or at something else. Bill was holding Dipper in his arms, and Dipper could feel the trembling that vibrated in Bill’s body. There was still the pain though, and within minutes Dipper fell back unconscious.

The next time Dipper woke, he was in Bill’s bedroom. The sun shone through the windows, blinding Dipper. He forced his eyes to close. He was vaguely aware of someone holding his hand as he fell back asleep.

Dipper woke up one last time. It was later in the evening, and Dipper was alone this time. He could hear something going on from outside the door, talking, and was acutely aware of something breaking. There was a silence again. Dipper adjusted himself so that he was sitting upright, his back against the headboard. He stared directly at the door, highly anticipating for a monster to come through.

The door swung open, revealing Tad, holding a tray in his hand.

Dipper’s eyebrows raised, surprised to see that Tad had known he was already awake. “I see you’re finally up,” Tad stated, making his way to Dipper’s side. “You slept fitfully. We were about ready to call for the doctor.”

Tad set the tray on the bed stand, picking up the cup of tea and handing it to Dipper. “Drink.”

Dipper did as he was told, too tired to oppose the man. It was then when he realized that there were no burn marks on his skin. Dipper examined his arm, purplexed.

“I found you at the bottom of the grand staircase,” Tad supplied for him. “You had fallen in the middle of the night, and I found you unconscious early this morning.”

Dipper nodded, saying nothing. Something didn’t add up. For one, his skin wasn’t charred. In fact, as far as he could tell, his skin was perfectly fine. Second, Dipper was pretty sure he hadn’t fallen down the stairs. He remembered being in the study, which led to the third thing. Bill had found him first, not Tad. Dipper eyed the man as he went about his business starting a fire in the fireplace. Why was Tad lying to him?

Dipper racked the man’s body, disappointed to find that he didn’t have the keys on him. Tad turned back to Dipper, a peculiar look on his face. “Would you like some more tea?” he inquired, nodding to the empty tea cup in Dipper’s hand. Dipper nodded slowly. He really just wanted Tad to get out of the room. Tad came back, taking the cup from Dipper. He stared at Dipper momentarily, making Dipper slightly uncomfortable.

“I would advise you to cover up those little... _bruises_. We are expecting potential company today.”

And with that, Tad left a confused Dipper to his own devices. Bruises…? Dipper struggled out of bed, bringing the covers along with him. He walked sluggishly to the bathroom, peering into the mirror. He looked like hell. His hair was an absolute mess, going every which way. There were heavy bags under his slightly red eyes. A line was creased into his skin, possibly from the pillow he was sleeping on. But what Dipper saw next terrified him.

There were in fact “little bruises” on him. Except the bruises looked more like hickies, some of which were outright bite marks. They trailed all the way up his neck, past his jaw, and to his mouth. Even his mouth looked a little swollen. Last night came crashing back to him in full waves.

The being in the elevator.

The monster in the hallway.

The study.

The seductive woman.

The gold.

Dipper felt like he was going to be sick. He gripped the edges of the sink til his knuckles turned white, staring at the drain. He drowned last night. Undoubtedly drowned in gold. Yet somehow he was still alive, presumably saved by Bill and lied to by Tad. There was something...somethings in the mansion. Surely he couldn’t be the only one seeing these things.

“Are you alright?”

Dipper startled, jolting away from the sink with a shout, almost falling if it wasn’t for a pair of hands that gripped his shoulders and kept him steady. He was staring directly into Bill’s tired eyes. Dipper’s breathing calmed significantly. He didn’t say a word as he wrapped his arms around Bill, pulling him close and burying his face into Bill’s chest. Bill was momentarily stunned as he felt a sob racked through Dipper’s body. Bill wrapped his own arms around Dipper then, resting his cheek atop Dipper’s head. “Pinetree, tell me what’s wrong,” he urged softly. When he received no response, he picked up Dipper, lifting him so that he could link an arm up under his knees and carry him bridal style.

Bill took them back into the bedroom, carefully setting Dipper on the bed. Dipper didn’t look in Bill’s eyes as the man pushed him back on the bed to lay down. Dipper only stared at the ceiling. feeling the bed dip beside him as Bill laid next to him. They said nothing to each other.  Dipper was thinking about why Bill wasn’t there when he woke up. This whole thing could have been avoided if-

Dipper felt a hand on his face, making him turn his head so to face the man beside him. Bill was looking at him with so much worry and concern that it could almost hurt. He left the hand there, and Dipper did nothing as said hand traveled down his face and to his neck. Dipper closed his eyes, focusing on breathing through his nose. He knew what Bill was looking at. “What happened, Pinetree?” Bill asked again.

Dipper thought about it, “I don’t know.”

There was a shift in the bed, and Dipper felt Bill scooting closer to Dipper. Dipper couldn’t see it, but there was a flash of anger on Bill’s face. Bill was angry about a lot of things at that moment.

Angry at Tad, for he had just seen the man outside, confronting him.

Angry at the house he lived in, and having brought Dipper into it.

He could argue that he was also angry at Dipper for having explored the house, but he couldn’t stay mad at him for long.

No, Bill was truly angry with himself. Angry that he brought this mess upon himself, for dragging numerous people into it, including Dipper, and…

And he was angry for falling for Dipper. Bill stroked his face, eyeing the marks on Dipper’s neck with malice. Why on earth had he chosen the most innocent human being to get swept up in the monstrosity that was Bill Cipher? At that moment, he chose to not think about it further. He scooted closer to Dipper so that he was merely inches away from him. Without warning, he placed a kiss on the furthest bruise from Dipper’s face. Bill heard Dipper’s sharp intake of breath, but he continued on.

He kissed every single bruise on Dipper’s neck, as if his touch alone could cure it. Cure it from the corruption and darkness. His final kiss landed softly on Dipper’s lips, and he wished they could just stay this way forever.

"Will you be alright if I were to leave you for a little bit?" Bill asked him. Dipper nodded only once, and he could feel the edges of sleep coming to him again. Bill kissed Dipper's forehead before getting up from the bed, leaving the man to rest. 

 

**V^**

 

Dipper had fallen into a peaceful sleep for several hours when his slumber was violently interrupted. The bedroom door flew open, startling Dipper to wake up. In the doorway was Tad, and for the first time, Dipper could tell that he was worried, frantic. He rushed over to one of the dressers and threw open one of the drawers, grabbing at random clothes. "T-Tad, what's going on?" Dipper asked hesitantly from the bed. Tad flinched, then turned to Dipper as if he were seeing him for the first time. 

"It's Bill," he rushed out. "He's- he- something went wrong with his machine. Something snapped and caused a part to come flying off...Bill..." Tad stopped his hurried movements, giving Dipper a grave look.

"Bill was hit. We think his lost his eyesight."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That cliffhanger though, hot damn


	9. Into the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is kind of all over the place? IDrK. I also kind of wanted to mention that I've planned out the rest of this story, and that'll be roughly between 15 and 20 chapters. Which is definitely a lot more than I had been anticipating truth be told. Sooo, we shall see how this all goes! Enjoy reading!
> 
> -V
> 
> BTW- unbeta'd per usual. I should probably consider getting a beta reader but it's kind of up in the air right now.

Dipper sat alone in the kitchen, staring down into his cup of tea, absorbing the lack of noise around him. He was worried. Beyond worried actually. Bill had gotten hurt. It was all he could think about. He was able to will Tad into telling him what happened. Prospective buyers and financial backers coming later, and Bill wanted to give his creation a test run. His creation was a machine he had built that would tunnel deep into the earth, uprooting the soil and bringing it back to the surface. The machine would dig a big enough hole to lead into what Bill assumed to be an underground mining shaft in which the manor was built over.

Bill and Tad had stumbled upon the mining shaft quite some time ago and, to their surprise, discovered massive amounts of pure crystals. Tad mentioned that there was something strange about the mines, but he didn’t go into much detail. As Tad rambled on about the mines, Dipper wondered if their guests were only here to see the machine itself, unaware that there was a potential goldmine buried below their very feet. But he didn’t mention it, and neither did Tad.

So, Bill was starting up the machine when one of the gears had come loose. The gear was forced from its place, firing itself out into the air, and right into Bill’s direction. The gear had hit Bill square across the eyes, and Tad thought that for an instant that Bill was hit so hard that he died on impact. But then Bill started flailing and screaming in pain.

After his short recount of the events, he hastily told Dipper that they would be leaving to see the doctor in the next town for treatment, and that they didn’t know when they would be back. Dipper had asked to see Bill, but Tad wouldn’t let him, saying that Bill didn’t want to concern Dipper anymore than necessary. That’s how Dipper ended up alone in the kitchen, cradling the cup of tea in his hands. Bill and Tad had left hours ago. They were probably halfway to the doctor’s by now.

Dipper’s hands shook, the tea sloshing in it’s little container. Every so often, he heard things. Little taps on the walls, little footsteps from the floorboards above, unexplained things. Taunting things. Tempting him to go look, but he knew that he wouldn’t like what he would find. So he remained in the kitchen, sitting with a resolve to not move from his spot. Of course he knew it wouldn’t last long.

Just outside the room he heard squealing. Dipper froze, thinking that it was another monster, but when there was another squeal a realization dawned on him. It was the pig.

Dipper stood, leaving his tea behind, and followed the squealing sound. It lead him up a grand staircase and (much to his hesitation) down a hallway. Dipper could almost laugh if he wasn’t so on edge. He found the little pig in the middle of the halfway, chewing happily on a stick and squealing every so often.

“What are you doing here little buddy?” Dipper asked softly, crouching beside the pig. The pig stopped chewing on the stick and looked up at him. Dipper smiled a bit. It kind of looked like the pig was trying to talk to him. He scratched behind the pigs floppy little ears. “I suppose I should give you a name instead of just calling you pig, huh?” He thought for a moment. What would Mabel name you?

“Waddles.”

The pig looked up at Dipper again.

“You like that name? Waddles?” Dipper laughed, scratching behind Waddles’ ear again. The little pig squealed in delight, rolling onto it’s back. I guess that settles it then. Dipper picked up the stick Waddles had been chewing on, considering it for a moment. He waved it in Waddles face a few times, catching the pig’s attention, then tossed it further down the hallway. It hit a way, bouncing off of it and into another hallway. Waddles rolled himself over and chased down the stick. Dipper couldn’t help but laugh as Waddles sauntered back to him, holding the stick in his mouth like it was some kind of trophy.

They carried on like that for a couple minutes, Dipper throwing the stick and Waddles running to go get it. With each throw, Dipper made it so that the stick progressively went further and further. His last throw was an unintentionally hard one, and Waddles took a minute or two to search for the stick. When the pig came back, the stick was nowhere to be found. “Did you loose the stick?” Dipper snorted, giving Waddles a scratch. As Dipper rose to go retrieve the stick himself, he heard something fall right behind him. Waddles squealed loudly as he turned slowly.

Behind him, lying dead center in the hallway was none other than the stick. It was placed so that it was pointing straight in their direction. Dipper stood still, staring at the stick. Waddles’ squealing finally broke his trance. He turned back to the pig, picking him up despite the squealy protests, and started walking back to the grand staircase. He dared one last look over his shoulder, only to find the stick to be missing. To say the least he quickened his pace. He let his feet guide him down the staircase, through the foyer, and to the front doors.

He stared at the door handles, contemplating his options. If he stayed inside the house, he would continue to be tormented by those...things. But if he went outside...maybe, just maybe he could get away from it all, even if just for a little bit. There was a bang from upstairs, and Dipper quickly made up his mind as he set down Waddles and opened the doors.

There was still light outside as Dipper took a tentative step onto the concrete. He held the door open long enough for Waddles to follow him out before letting it shut close. Dipper looked about the large flat yard, seeing just where the forest connected to it. The light breeze reminded Dipper that it would be winter soon, watching fallen leaves dance across the barren yard. Dipper noted as well that it wasn’t as quiet as it was inside the manor. He could practically hear life around him, the branches rustling, the wind whistling, the soft sounds of animals hidden in the woods. It was weirdly peaceful. At least in comparison to the manor.

Dipper walked out into the step, a small bounce in his step that wasn’t previously there before. Waddles was trotting along beside him, though Dipper wasn’t prepared to make the pig follow him into the woods. Dipper continued to walk until he reached the edge of the forest. The trees towered over him. Dipper observed their colored leaves, a vast array of yellows, reds, browns, and greens. He found those colors to be very comforting, and with one step he found himself passing the invisible threshold into the forest.

Not even one step in and Dipper immediately felt the change in the air. The once dense and heaviness that surrounded the manor lifted into one that felt open, warming.

Inviting.

Welcoming.

He sighed aloud, listening to the crunch of the leaves under his foot. Somehow he always found solace in woods like these. There was just something about them that felt so...freeing. Like Dipper didn’t have to pretend to be something or someone else. It was a nice, comforting feeling. Often times Dipper found himself wandering into the woods just on the outskirts of the town back home. He had a hidden little spot in there, and whenever he just needed to get away from it all, he would go there and either write or just sit and breath in the air.

Dipper stepped over a fallen tree, lost in his own thoughts.

He didn’t know how long he was out there wandering. He didn’t even notice Waddles disappearing. He was simply in his own world, thinking about many different things. But mostly thought about Bill’s condition. Was he alright? Was he alive? Was his eyesight really gone? Where was he now? Was Tad still with him?

Dipper stepped over a fallen tree.

It was all so concerning. At this point Dipper didn’t know what he would do if Bill wasn’t in his life anymore. If something did happen to him, Dipper figured he would just leave the manor. Leaving Tad to himself really didn’t sit quite right, but he felt that Tad would prefer to be alone. Or at least just not with Dipper. He always seemed to prefer Bill more, though that may possibly be because they practically grew up together.

Dipper stepped over a fallen tree.

It was an odd thought really, Dipper then realized, thinking about how much Bill meant to him. Did Bill feel the same? He supposed he wouldn’t be here if Bill didn’t. But there were moments he felt where Bill wasn’t always as genuine as he presented himself to be. Like he was acting. Or just hiding something, but what Dipper didn’t know. Was it the gold? The hidden library? Dipper’s thoughts turned to manor. He shivered at the thought of having to go back. That place was out to kill him, he just knew it. It was absurd to continue living there  honestly. But it was Bill that was holding him back. Keeping him there. Where else would he go? He didn’t have the money to return home alone. Back into the safe arms of his adoring sister. It was then in that silent instant when Dipper suddenly realized that he wanted to stay with Bill so badly that he would stay in the manor. The realization scared him.

Dipper was about to step over a fallen tree, but he stopped short. Hadn’t he stepped over this tree already? The exact same tree too, seeing that it had the same holes and same markings as the previous ones. Dipper’s brows furrowed together. Had he been walking in circles the entire time? He could have sworn he was walking in a straight line though. Dipper was so caught up in thought that he hadn’t even noticed the sun setting now, the forest growing darker and darker with each passing minute.

Dipper had a feeling that he didn’t want to be in the woods alone at night.

He turned around, trekking back the way he came in hopes to somehow make it back to that godforsaken manor. He ended up passing that same fallen tree over, and over, and over, and over. By the fifth time he had gotten extremely worried, seeing as how he had no light to shine into the dark. By the seventh time he was beginning to panic. By the tenth time he was running blindly.

The temperature dropped significantly, and Dipper could see his own breath huffing out of him. He passed the fallen tree several more times. The relief that he felt when he didn’t stumble upon that fallen tree was great enough that it made Dipper want to collapse in tears, but he trudged on, running with what little energy he had left.

By the time he reached the edge of the forest the darkness had already fallen, the sun completely blipped out in the sky. Dipper, through his panting, gazed at the manor before him. At night it looked absolutely terrifying. Just like the monsters that rested inside. He ran across the yard, trying to distance himself away from those woods as much as physically possible. He reached the front doors and made to grab the handle when the doors swung open.

Dipper shouted in surprise, nearly toppling down the front steps. There in the doorway was Tad Strange, his face pinched in an expression of mild worry and disdain that then morphed into irritation. He grabbed Dipper’s collar, forcefully dragging him inside before slamming the door closed.

“Where were you?” he hissed at Dipper, dragging him close, refusing to let go of his collar.

“I-I was just outside!” Dipper rushed, his hands going to encase the fist in his shirt.

“Dipper you’ve been gone for three days!” Tad growled, throwing Dipper back some as he let go of his shirt.

 _Three days…?_ Dipper looked at Tad with confusion. “That can’t possibly…”

“Did you go into the woods?” Tad interrupted.

Dipper’s lack of response only seemed to anger the man more. Tad pushed Dipper roughly, the young man’s back colliding with the hard door. Tad pressed a finger into his chest, his eyes menacing.

“Under no circumstances do you ever waltz your way into the forest. Ever. Do you understand me?”

Dipper nodded hurriedly under Tad’s threatening glare. Tad gave him one last look before turning his back to Dipper, disappearing into the kitchen. Dipper’s heart raced as he watched the man go. He silently promised that he wouldn’t go back.

It dawned on Dipper that if Tad was back then so was Bill. Dipper rushed off to Bill’s room, not wanting to waste any more time away from him. He burst into the bedroom and called out for Bill.

“In here, Pinetree.” The response led Dipper to the bathroom, where he found Bill standing in front of the mirror, staring at himself. He was dressed in wrinkled black slacks and slept in loose fitted shirt. From his point of view, Dipper guessed Bill hadn’t gotten much sleep. Dipper took notice of the bandages that were wrapped around Bill’s head, covering up one of his eyes. Dipper walked right behind Bill, wrapping his arms around Bill’s waist and resting his head between his shoulder blades.

“Welcome back,” Dipper whispered softly. He could feel the hum that vibrated throughout Bill’s body. Dipper felt warm hands rest on his own, and he sighed contently. “I could say the same for you,” Bill murmured, twisting his head a little to get a look at his Pinetree. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but Dipper looked like a mess, his hair going in crazy directions and little scratches displaying themselves on his arms.

Dipper didn’t say anything in regards to where he had been, but Bill knew.

“The doctor said that after a few days time I can remove the bandages,” Bill changed the subject. He turned around in Dipper’s arms, leaning slightly on the sink as he looked down at him. Dipper looked at Bill’s face. There were the signs of bruising from underneath the wrapping, but nothing else on the rest of his skin. Dipper looked into his eye and saw the glassy look it had to it. Dipper unwound his arms from Bill’s waist, reaching cautiously to the bandages, “May I?”

Bill slowly nodded, loosely wrapping his arms around Dipper as said man began the gently remove his bandages. A part of Bill didn’t want Dipper to see his wound. The wound repulsed him, every thought going back to it shamed him greatly. It muttered numerous times that it was his fault that it happened, all of the bad luck he had coming back at that moment. It was like the manifestation of everything bad he had done. An eye for an eye. He didn’t want his Pinetree to look at him like that. Like some kind of monster. And yet he did nothing as Dipper unwound the last of the bandages, letting them fall to the floor. Dipper pushed back the hair that had fallen in Bill’s face.

Bill’s eye had completely crusted over, sewn shut with intricate and painful looking stitches. Dipper thought that if his eyelids weren’t sewn shut then he would be staring at nothing but an empty socket. There were bruises along his skin, resembling the look of grove almost. They were purpled, turning black in some spots. Dipper traced his finger over one of the bruises, only to have his hand moved by Bill’s.

“I wish you wouldn’t have to see me like this,” Bill said sourly, dipping his head and letting his hair cover his face.

“Why?” Dipper asked softly, bringing his hands to cup Bill’s face.

“I look hideous…” Bill muttered. “Monster-like and grotesque.”

Dipper pushed the hair out of Bill’s face. He leaned in close to the man, letting his impulse take the lead as he placed a gentle kiss upon those stitches. “I’ve seen the face of many monsters Bill,” he whispered, “And you are not one of them.”

Bill tensed, his arms locking in place, his head spinning. There was this...feeling...swelling in his chest, constraining his breathing almost. He raised his head and saw Dipper’s face. His sweet face, his watery eyes, his little smile. Bill’s heart raced against his own accord. “Pinetree…”

“I won’t let you call yourself a monster. You’re nothing like that at all. Nothing close. You’re the most important person to me and I refuse to let you bring yourself down. You can get past this, Bill. And I will help you every step of the way.”

Bill stared in shock at Dipper. His voice was so genuine, so caring. Bill felt like he was suffocating in the best possible way. He just couldn’t believe just how much Dipper cared for him.

And how much the young man meant to Bill.

Bill was lost for words, and decided to use his actions instead. He pulled Dipper closer to him, kissing his forehead, then his nose, then his lips. Bill felt Dipper wrapping his arms around his neck as they kissed slow. Bill wanted nothing more than to drown in the sensation that was his Pinetree.

He would be more okay with that miraculous death than any other. 


	10. The Post pt. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit on the shorter side, mostly because I wanted to post it today instead of tomorrow, and because I split the entire chapter into two different parts. The next part is quite longer than this one actually. Also, in the beginning Bill and Dipper are actually naked, but I didn't do a great job of pointing that out in the story, sooo there ya go. Anywho, much love to those who read, comment, and leave kudos! Y'all are just so freakin' awesome :3 Un'betad as usual, so enjoy reading!
> 
> -V

Bill laid in his bed, the cool air nipping at his bare chest. His side was warm though, and if he were to move ever so slightly he would disturb the sleeping man curled up beside him. Dipper’s arm was thrown over Bill’s chest, his head tucked right under Bill’s, their legs were tangled under the sheets. Bill couldn’t help but stare at his adorable Pinetree, running a hand through Dipper’s hair and playing with the wild strands. They had slept all night, just like this, and Bill had never been more content in his life. He would like to think that Dipper felt the same.

He felt Dipper began to stir, pull Bill closer, and Bill chuckled as he placed a kiss on Dipper’s head. “Good morning, Pinetree,” he smiled, receiving a hum of acknowledgement from Dipper. “M’cold…” Dipper complained, snuggling closer to Bill. Bill reached to grab the covers, trying to not disturb Dipper too much, and pulled them over both Dipper and himself. Dipper laughed softly, his view now obstructed by the white sheets, “Thanks.” 

“You are most welcomed, Pinetree,” Bill mused. They laid there in a comfortable silence, Bill focusing on Dipper’s breathing, feeling the rise and fall of Dipper’s chest on his side.  Bill counted that moment 26 times before Dipper broke the silence.

“Would you… mind if I asked you a couple questions?”

Bill couldn’t see Dipper, but he could feel the man tense a little beside him. “Of course, Pinetree. What would you like to know?” Bill’s eyebrows furrowed.

It was a couple minutes before Dipper continued, “Has anyone...died in this house? Recent deaths, I mean. Strange deaths.”

Bill stilled, his breathing now coming slow, and he was grateful that Dipper couldn’t see him at that moment. He couldn’t see the way Bill’s eye widened, then narrow, glaring at the sheets covering him. And he couldn’t see how Bill’s jaws clenched, his teeth grinding ever so slightly. “Why?” Bill grounded out a little too harshly, and he was upset with himself as he felt Dipper pull away from him just a tiny bit.

“Well… I don’t really know how to put this without sounding like I’m just making up stuff,” Dipper tried. “But… I’ve just seen some really, really strange things in your house. And I don’t know what to make of those strange things…”

“What have you seen?” Bill inquired slowly, his words laced with worry and a bit of anger. 

“Ghosts. I think.”

It was then did Bill sit up, dragging Dipper along with him. Dipper let out an undignified squeak as he found himself being pulled onto Bill’s lap, sitting awkwardly on his haunches as his knees pressed against Bill’s sides. He was positioned higher than Bill, and had to look down at the man who was snaking his arms around Dipper’s waist, pulling him close. It caused Dipper to fall slightly, planting him square on Bill’s thighs. The covers fell around them into a pool on the bed. Dipper could just feel his face heating up.

“What have you seen?” Bill reiterated, and Dipper could hear the sense of urgency in his words.

“I-I don’t really know how to describe them,” Dipper stumbled over his words. “First i-it was the man in the elevator, I thought it was Tad but… I didn’t know for sure. I didn’t get the best look at him, then there was that… that thing that couldn’t even stand s-straight in the hallway and…”

Dipper felt like Bill’s stare could burn holes right through him. He knew he should feel bad for exploring the mansion considering he was under strict orders not to by Tad. And yet… Dipper felt like he was being hunted like prey. And if he were to keep it all in for much longer… there is such a real possibility for him to die here.

“And then there was the golden lady.”

Dipper hadn’t seen so many emotions on Bill’s face at once. It was appalling to see the initial confusion, then the understanding, then anger, worry. Then nothing at all. Dipper closed his eyes, not wanting to look at Bill. Why did he feel so guilty right now? Dipper felt Bill’s arms unwind from around him. But he hadn’t expected those arms to then wind around his neck and pull him down. Dipper’s lips met another’s, and he fell forward as those arms continued to pull.

Dipper landed right onto Bill’s chest, situated between his legs as they stayed lip-locked. Dipper moaned into the kiss as he felt Bill’s hands roam down his back, his blunt nails scraping his skin, before his hands came to rest over Dipper’s rear. Bill hiked Dipper forward, lifting him up higher and not once stopping the kissing, and Dipper had to brace one hand on the headboard and one on the bed. Bill drew his knees up then, forcing Dipper to stay where he was positioned. Bill broke the kiss, the both of them panting hard as they rested their foreheads together, their noses barely an inch away. Dipper could see Bill’s good eye roaming over his face, searching.

“Bill… what’s the matter?” Dipper breathed, nudging his nose along Bill’s jawline. “Talk to me.”

Bill’s hold on Dipper tightened, his nails digging deep. “I won’t let them take you from me,” he growled possessively, turning his head to graze his teeth along Dipper’s neck, earning a shudder from the man.

“W-who’s them?” Dipper questioned lowly into Bill’s ear. Dipper felt his body jerk at the sensation of teeth being dragged along his flesh, and his mind was starting to go foggy. Bill moved one of his hands to grip Dipper’s hair, turning his head so that they were face to face. They locked eyes, their chests heaving and their breaths ragged. Bill pulled Dipper down, their lips barely touching, and answered,

“Our demons.”

Dipper never got the chance to ask another question as Bill attacked his lips, kissing roughly, desperately. Like Dipper was his oxygen and he was a dying man. Dipper lost his hold on the headboard, his chest crashing onto Bill’s, their teeth scraping.

Then they heard it. A loud squealing, coming from the bathroom. Dipper raised himself off Bill, who groaned loudly. “You let the damn pig in here?” Bill accused Dipper. Dipper casted a look in the direction of the bathroom, confused, “I didn’t think Waddles was in here.”

Bill raised an eyebrow at the name, “Waddles?”

Dipper blushed. “I named him a while ago,” he rushed out, slowly crawling off Bill.

“Why name him when he’s going to become bacon soon,” Bill quipped, sitting up on the bed. He laughed at the harmless glare he got from Dipper, and watched as the man went to the bathroom. Bill pulled the covers over his lab as he waited for Dipper to return.

Suddenly, Bill heard Dipper shout something intangible to his ears.

Then there was a loud crash, like something breaking.

And Dipper was screaming.

Bill was already moving before his brain registering it, fumbling out of the bed and sprinting to Dipper. When he reached the bathroom, he didn’t know what to make of what he was seeing.

There was Dipper, standing in front of the sink. His hands were painted red from the blood that was pouring from long gashes in his arms. The blood poured into the sink, staining it crimson. There was blood splattered all over Dipper, his chest, his face, his hair. And yet Dipper didn’t seem fazed by his blood. Bill followed his line of sight to the mirror. Or what used to be the mirror.

Lodged in the mirror’s face was - a stick? Shards of the mirror’s glass was still in place, but most of it was either in the sink, on the floor, or, to Bill’s horror, on Dipper. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the light caught caught the shimmer of glass that speckled Dipper’s skin, forming little red dots everywhere. Bill looked back to Dipper, who was still standing there not saying a word. Bill cautiously made his way over to him, avoiding the mirror shards on the ground.

“Pinetree…?” he said carefully, turning Dipper to face him. Bill was horrified to see nothing in the man’s blank gaze. Dipper made a choking noise before completely breaking down and crumbling. Bill quickly caught him, but not fast enough as Dipper’s knees came into contact with mirror shards. He screamed again through broken sobs as Bill began yelling for Tad.

 

**V^**

 

Bill sat glaring, fully dressed now, as he watched Tad tend to Dipper’s wounds. They all were back in the bedroom, with the door to the bathroom closed and locked. Dipper was sitting in the chair next to the fireplace, dressed in Bill’s more looser pants and shirt so Tad had easier access to aid Dipper. Tad ignored Bill’s glare, continuing to coax Dipper into telling him what had happened.

“Why don’t you start from when you first walked into the bathroom?” Tad said, raising one of Dipper’s arms gently. Dipper winced in pain and Bill’s glare intensified. Tad rotated the arm, examining for any more pieces of the mirror.

“I… I went in the bathroom and-” Dipper clenched his teeth mid sentence as Tad pulled out a piece of the mirror from his arm.

“Can’t you be a little more gentle?” Bill huffed. It irritated him enough that Tad was touching his Pinetree, now he was causing him pain. Tad sent a challenging glare to Bill, one that Dipper missed, and retorted, “Why, of course.”

Tad got up then, pulling the other chair right in front of Dipper and sat down in it. Bill’s eyebrows raised when he watched Tad lean too close into Dipper’s personal space, grasping Dipper’s arm in his hand. Tad looked up at Dipper, “I hope you don’t mind my proximity to you, Dipper.”

Bill could have sworn he was seeing red as Tad leaned in more, closing the space between him and Dipper to just about a foot. Dipper’s face heated up at the sudden closeness. “I-I don’t,” he stammered out, and Tad gave a small nod and a cheeky look at Bill before continuing to examine Dipper’s arm. Dipper continued to speak.

“I went to the bathroom and I started looking for Waddles but… I couldn’t find him anywhere. I thought it was really weird, so I was about to go back but then I saw… something in the mirror, out of the corner of my eye. When I looked I didn’t see anything, but then something flew past my head and hit the mirror. The mirror kind of exploded on me and… and then I saw the stick… and…”

Dipper trailed off, zoning out as he stared at the floor, “The fucking stick…” Bill’s brows furrowed, not following at all.

“How did the stick get there?” Tad asked, moving to Dipper’s other arm.

“I...I don’t…” Dipper trailed off again, and Bill dared a look at the man’s face. His eyes were lifeless. He looked so defeated, so broken. It was ripping at Bill’s heart, only worsening with what Dipper said next.

“I want to leave.”

Tad stopped working, staring Dipper dead in the eyes. “...Leave?”

Dipper nodded slowly, and Tad gave Bill an unreadable look. Tad, curious at that moment more than anything, decided to test the waters as he reached to cup Dipper’s sad little face in his hands. From the corner of his eyes, Tad saw Bill tense greatly. Dipper’s eyes widened as he looked at Tad’s face.

“Listen Dipper,” Tad began, his voice a little too soft, too caring for Bill’s liking. “I know things must be difficult, your great uncle having recently died and leaving your sister behind in America, but right now all you have is Bill, this house, and me.”

Dipper couldn’t place it, but there felt like some underlying threat in Tad’s words, and it made him worry and uncomfortable as Tad pulled his face closer.

“We can’t have you losing that, can we?” Tad grinned menacingly. Dipper wanted to panic, his eyes wildly seeking out Bill.

“Maybe if we get out of the house for a little while, would that help at all?” Bill grounded out through his clenched teeth. Tad let go of Dipper’s face, looking smug as he settled back into his chair.

“W-where would we go?” Dipper asked, wearily eyeing Tad.

“We could...we could go to the post!” Bill exclaimed, jumping off the bed.

“The post?” Tad repeated dully.

“The post!” Bill confirmed haughtily. “I’ve been meaning to go there for ages!”

Dipper looked between the two quizzically, but didn’t object the idea.

Bill grinned, a little too widely, “That settles it then!” Dipper resisted the urge to chuckle as Bill began making “shoo”ing noises at Tad, making him get up from where he sat and urging him out of the bedroom. Bill promptly shut the door behind Tad, returning back to Dipper and sitting where Tad previously had been. “I hope that is quite alright with you, Pinetree,” Bill asked, hesitant, reaching to hold Dipper’s hands in his.

“It's quite alright with me,” Dipper hummed, tracing little circles on Bill’s hands with his thumbs. Bill smiled at the action, looking at their hands briefly before looking at the table beside Dipper. There, placed ever so neatly was a cup of tea that Tad had brought for Dipper. It sat untouched, but Bill looked at it with hidden disdain.

“How are you feeling?” Bill asked suddenly, turning to Dipper.

Dipper tilted his head a bit, mulling over his answer in his head. “Better… now that you're here. I do have a bit of a stomach ache though, and my arms still hurt. But I'm better.”

Bill looked troubled by the answer, but didn't say anything. Instead, he raised their hands to his face and kissed Dipper's knuckles. “We’ll leave here shortly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gzw rh zm zhh.


	11. The Post pt. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Turkey Day everybody! I would've uploaded this chapter earlier if it hadn't been for a sudden food coma that snuck up on me >.> Also, I was just kind of curious, would anyone be interested in having me write prompts during the month of December? I'm trying to think of ways to give back to you guys. Let me know! 
> 
> -V
> 
> BTW- I still haven't figured out how to write sex scenes, so just a heads up on that

When Dipper stepped out the carriage, the sun was hidden by dark clouds. He looked at them with worry, wondering if arriving so late in the day was actually not the best of plans. But Bill (and Dipper) was determined to leave the mansion as soon as possible, resulting in the nearly two hour long carriage ride to the post. Dipper stretched his sore and cramped limbs as Bill came around the carriage, swinging his cane in one hand and holding a package in the other. “Pinetree my dear,” Bill started, tucking his cane under his arm and grabbing hold of Dipper’s arm, “Welcome to the post!”

The post, a bustling building on the outskirts of town, was nicer than Dipper had anticipated. It reminded him of a hotel really, with its polished stone exterior and ornate windows. A sign hung at the building’s front, which read: Gleeful Post Offices. Dipper thought the name was a bit odd, but didn’t question it as Bill led him inside. They sidestepped numerous people, businessmen, groups of ladies, haggard looking individuals. It was bizarre seeing so many people at a place like a post office. “It isn’t just a post,” Bill supplied, guiding Dipper to the main desk, “There’s several living quarters just upstairs and a part time bar below.”

Dipper nodded, watching people go about their business as they reached the main desk. Behind said desk sat a bored looking man who perked up at the sight of Bill. “Lord Cipher! How may I assist you today?”

Bill smirked, resting his cane on the desk. “A couple of things actually.” He turned to Dipper then, “If you like, you could look around the post. I won’t be too long.” Bill gave Dipper a chaste kiss, the two earning a curious gaze from the man behind the desk, before nudging Dipper away gently. Dipper gave Bill one last small smile before walking off.

Dipper wasn’t surprised to find himself outside yet again. He was seated at one of the outdoor tables, minding his own business, when suddenly a man occupied the other chair in front of him. It startled Dipper, who was watching the ominous clouds.

“My oh my!” the man exclaimed. “Were you the man with a certain lord by the name Bill Cipher?”

Dipper faltered in his response, taken slightly aback by the man’s garish attire. He wore a powder blue suit (that Mabel would surely say went out of style a while ago) and a white button up. He had white hair, despite his prominent baby face, that was raised and slicked back. From the looks of it, the man was probably significantly more shorter than Dipper, although his hair added several mock inches to his height.

“Y-yes?” Dipper stumbled, unsure if he really wanted this man’s company or not. “Who are you?”

“Why I knew I recognized that face with him! Now I have a name for the face,” he winked, and Dipper cringed a little. “Cipher and I used to work together, but that was oh so long ago. Struck up one of his infamous deals to get me out a sticky situation. I suppose he remembers he still hasn’t kept his side of the bargain.”

Dipper had no idea what to say to that really. He hadn’t heard of any “deals” would have made, and he still didn’t know this man’s name.

“I don’t suppose you know what he does, do you?” the man asked, his tone light but his eyes scrutinizing.

Dipper just played along. “No, I don’t.”

The man gave an obnoxious mock sigh. “He’s a professional swindler! A hustler if you will. He bargains prices with you and next thing you know he’s taking triple the price you offered him!”

Suddenly a hand was placed on the man’s shoulder, startling him, and Dipper looked up to see none other than Bill himself. His expression was unreadable. Dipper was pretty sure he had heard every word the stranger had said. When the man turned, the stare he and Bill shared was intense, putting Dipper on edge.

“I see you’ve met Mr. Gideon Gleeful,” Bill said, tightening his grip on the man’s shoulder. “He owns the post.”

Gideon gave Bill a wild smile, “Who’s your friend here, Mr. Cipher?”

“My partner, Dipper Pines.”

Gideon’s eyes widened at that, turning fast to look at Dipper, throwing off BIll’s hand. Gideon gave Dipper several look overs, and Dipper couldn’t help feeling a bit disgusted by the staring. Then Gideon cackled loud, “Well isn’t that a hoot! Lil’ ol me is surprised! Bill Cipher finally settling down, huh? And with a man no less!”

Dipper resisted the urge to punch the man, who was greatly grating on his nerves now, and he was unaware that Bill was resisting the same urge.

“Indeed, it is a hoot,” Bill mocked, reaching over Gideon to hand Dipper a letter. “From Mabel.”

Dipper took the letter, his heart swelling as he recognized his sister’s cursive writing. He decided to look at it whenever he was alone. That was when lightning struck across the skies and the rumble of heavy thunder shook the air. Bill looked up at the sky, bopping his cane on Gideon’s chair. “Would you happen to have a spare room we could stay in for the night? I don’t think traversing in the rain will be a smart idea.”

“Why should I give you two lovebirds a room?” Gideon quipped, glaring. Bill narrowed his eyes, and Dipper watched as Bill leaned in to whisper something into Gideon’s ear. The man’s eyes widened, but from what was unclear to Dipper as Gideon hurriedly got up from his seat. “I’ll get you the key to suite above,” Gideon said without a second glance back.

Dipper stared after the man, then turned to Bill to ask what that was all about, but decided not to when he saw Bill grinning a little too manically.

 

**V^**

 

Dipper walked into the suite and was pleasantly surprised by how cozy it was. The small room was furnished with a large bed with a equally large fireplace in front of it, soft looking fur rugs, scenic paintings, and a dresser under the covered windows. The fireplace was already lit, filling the room with much needed heat. Ever since they arrived at the post, Dipper had been freezing cold, his coat too thin to keep him warm. The fire casted a low light into the dark room, creating shadows that danced across the walls. Dipper shrugged off his coat, hearing Bill shut the door behind him.

“Hopefully you don’t take what Gideon said to heart, Pinetree,” Bill said, making his way over to the fireplace. Dipper sat on the edge of the bed, folding his coat in his hands.

“About the swindling?” Dipper asked, turning to Bill.

“Yes.”

“I don’t.”

Bill was surprised by the immediacy of the answer, turning away from the fireplace to look at Dipper. “You don’t?”

Dipper got up from the bed, walking to stand right in front of Bill. “I don’t,” he promised, playing with the lapels on Bill’s coat. “Even if he were speaking the truth, I wouldn’t care at all. What I care about is you and only you.”

Bill looked down at Dipper, who refused to met Bill’s eye with his own. In that instant, Bill became highly aware of how close his Pinetree was to him, merely inches away from touching. He could hear both of their breaths, slow, calm. Bill raised his arm to trail his hand over Dipper’s forearm, watching the way Dipper relaxed at the simple touch.

Dipper looked up at Bill, the fire’s light casting a glow on his face, his features appearing softer, “I hope you take that to heart.”

The honesty in his voice broke Bill’s heart, his mind a whirlwind with so many thoughts, all of which found their way back to Dipper. It was dizzying, amazingly so, and Bill bent down to place a kiss on his Pinetree’s lips.

One kiss turned into two, three, four, and Dipper wound his arms around Bill’s neck, urging him closer. Bill steadied himself with his grip on Dipper’s waist. In between kisses, Bill quietly questioned,

“Would you still feel the same if you knew everything about me?”

The kissing slowed, Dipper giving Bill a curious look through his half lidded eyes. Bill turned them both away from the fireplace, gently pushing Dipper towards the bed.

“What don’t I know about you?” Dipper asked, feeling the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Bill began to unbutton Dipper’s shirt as he spoke.

“My past,”

Bill unbuttoned the last of the buttons, letting the shirt to fall and gather at Dipper’s feet.

“My work,”

Bill pulled off his shirt with less care, throwing it to the ground.

“What I’ve done,”

Bill pushed Dipper onto the bed, the young man bouncing on the mattress before scooting back to the headboard. Bill lowered himself onto the bed, crawling on his hands and knees to rest right above Dipper, trapping him beneath his body.

“What I’ve done to you,”

Dipper felt the ghost of Bill’s breath on the nape of his neck, shuddering. Bill kissed up Dipper’s neck, trailing his tongue over every place he kissed.

“What I want to do to you,”

Bill grinded his hips on Dipper’s, enjoying the moan that escaped from Dipper’s lips. The sound was like a drug, and Bill was addicted. He grinded his hips again, the friction almost painful, but the sounds Dipper was making was absolute pleasure.

“I would love nothing more than to destroy you, Dipper Pines,”

Dipper jolted when he felt a hand press on his cock, rubbing him through his pants. He was panting hard, his mind completely gone, his words slurring, “Lord please do.”

The wicked grin Bill gave him sent shivers down his spine. Bill bit down on Dipper’s neck, hard. Dipper would have cried out if it hadn’t been for the fingers that found their way into his mouth. Dipper clamped down on the digits, sucking on them all as Bill sucked on his neck.

“Take off your pants,” Bill commanded, going to lick the shell of Dipper’s ear. Dipper moaned through the fingers, making quick work of his pants. The movement was awkward, but Dipper managed to get them off, and when he did, Bill pulled his fingers from his mouth. Bill wound one arm around Dipper’s waist, hoisting him up from the mattress and falling backwards. Dipper’s vision spun as he found himself straddling Bill’s hips, looking down at the man. Bill’s arm then went to Dipper’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Dipper, bent with his ass to the air, felt slick fingers trailing his backside, pass his rear to rest teasingly over his entrance.

One digit pushed in, and a jolt went through Dipper’s body as he moaned into BIll’s mouth. The finger worked him, stretching his insides slowly. At first it hurt, but Dipper quickly got accustomed to the foreign feeling, and when Bill added more fingers, Dipper couldn’t help but push back. The movement was slow, agonizingly so, and it was driving Dipper up the wall.

“Bill,” he whined through shallow breaths, “Bill...I need…”

Another moan left his lips, and Bill smirked at the sight. “What do you need, Pinetree?”

Dipper glared half heartedly at Bill, but it didn’t last long as another shudder swept through his body. “I need you… I need you in me. I’m going to go crazy like this.”

Bill adopted a contemplative look on his face, his fingers not once ceasing their probing. “Crazy would look good on you, Pinetree. I could get used to it.” He pulled out his fingers then, and Dipper wanted to collapse on Bill, but he kept himself upright with his planted elbows on the mattress. He could feel the bed shake as Bill worked to take his pants off, shucking them and his underwear over the side of the bed.

Bill wasted no time in preparing himself, sucking on some of his fingers, getting a generous amount of saliva on them. He reached down at grabbed his erection, giving himself a firm squeeze before spreading the saliva over his member. Dipper watched him all the while, transfixed by the lack of care Bill showed in regards to himself, how rough he was. When Bill thought he was ready, he pushed Dipper into the sitting position, hovering just above his cock.

“Are you ready?” was all he asked, and Dipper nodded in reply. Bill nodded too, watching as Dipper positioned his cock against his entrance. Agonizingly slow, Dipper lowered himself onto Bill’s member, inch by excruciating inch. Bill’s head lolled back over the edge of the bed. Dipper was so fucking tight, the pressure on his dick made his mind swim. Dipper sat there for a moment, Bill buried to the hilt inside him now, vaguely aware of Bill telling him to move. He didn’t know what compelled him to do so, but Dipper raised himself up, Bill’s dick sliding out of him almost completely, then slammed back down onto Bill.

Dipper felt Bill’s body spasm and his own eyes saw stars as Bill’s length hit it prostate. Bill’s shuddered moan mixed with Dipper’s, and Dipper repeated the action again. Over and over. Each time hitting that spot that made Dipper weak in the knees. He picked up the pace, grounding his hips faster and faster. Dipper could feel his legs going numb, the dragging of nails along his sides that left a burning sensation along his skin.

Dipper was unprepared when Bill suddenly shot up, pulling out so violently that Dipper cried out in pain, only to be pushed back onto the bed with Bill looming over him. Bill repositioned himself at Dipper’s entrance, pushing all the way in not a moment later. Dipper wrapped his legs around Bill’s waist as Bill snapped his hips into him, hitting the same spot over and over again.

They were both lost, caught up the sensations that were each other. They lost track of time, the world around seeming to slow, then stop all together. Dipper couldn’t feel anything but Bill above him, working him, tearing him apart from the inside. And Dipper wanted to be torn apart. To be destroyed by his hands and his hands alone, only to be rebuilt once again by him. Dipper would love every bit of it. And he knew Bill would too.

Bill’s movements started to become erratic, coming down to grab Dipper in a heated kiss. Dipper knew he was tittering over the edge. There was a hand then on Dipper’s erection, pumping in time with Bill’s hips. There was a brief moment like this before Dipper felt Bill’s movement stutter, groaning deeply as he filled Dipper. He squeezed Dipper’s cock once more, and Dipper was seeing white.

Bill crashed into Dipper’s heaving chest, his breathing uneven. They sat there, soaked in sweat, not wanting to move at all. Suddenly, Dipper could hear Bill laughing softly, and tipped his head to look at the older man resting on him. Bill rested his head over Dipper’s nipple, a dazed grin on his face as he traced circles on Dipper’s shoulder.

“What’s so funny?” Dipper chuckled lightly, running a hand through Bill’s sweaty hair. Bill leaned into the touch, sighing contently. “Oh nothing,” Bill assured, starting to draw triangles on Dipper’s skin. “It’s just that you’re covered in your own semen.”

Dipper groaned, shoving a laughing Bill off him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> L dp vr wkdqnixo iru wkrvh zkr uhdg dqg hqmrb pb zulwlqj! Brx jxbv duh wkh ehvw.


	12. The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have gotten this chapter out earlier if it hadn't been for my internet suddenly deciding to go out. Buuuuuuut, it's here now! Yaaay! I wanted to do so much more with this chapter but it just didn't want to be written at all. So, it kind of turned into filler more than anything? But it's setting the gears in motion! Also, Mabel! There's kind of a weird time skip in the middle of the chapter, right after the letter, so just a heads up on that one! Enjoy reading, everyone!
> 
> -V

When the mansion appeared into his view, Dipper couldn’t quell the sudden feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. If it were at all possible, he would have stayed back at the post, with Bill, cuddled up in bed, without a care in the world. But of course, the reality of the situation came crawling back in the form of that godforsaken mansion. He squeezed Bill’s hand a little bit harder, who in turn squeezed right back reassuringly. Dipper still wondered if Bill took him seriously about the things in the house, they hadn’t spoken about it since the previous incident. Dipper tore his eyes from the mansion in favor of the forest. He shuddered a little, remembering that that was another thing he would have to ask Bill about.

The carriage pulled up the front stairs, and Bill graciously opened the door and helped Dipper out. “I have a couple things I need to tend to,” Bill began, closing the carriage door. “I’m sure Tad is somewhere inside.” Truth be told, Dipper also didn’t want to see Tad. The man made him… nervous, uncomfortable. But instead of voicing his uncertainty, he simply gave Bill a nod, and earned a swift kiss on the forehead before watching the man walk off. Dipper sighed, turning to face the mansion. It loomed high above him, and it took everything in his power to take the steps two at a time.

The creaking of the front doors opening was buried under the sound of a high pitched screeching, making Dipper wince as he hurriedly shut the door. In an instant he recognized the smell of something burning. He ran, following the smell, the fear of something on fire on the forefront of his mind. Dipper found himself in the kitchen, spotting the stove. There was a kettle and a pan sitting on the burners, smoke coming from the pan and the kettle emitting that awful noise, and Dipper rushed to turn off the stove. He made to move the kettle and pan, trying to do so without burning himself, when a voice startled him.

“What are you doing?!”

Dipper was violently shoved aside as Tad pushed himself in front of the stove, tending to the charred pan. He looked… unwell. He seemed to be a lot paler than he usually was, his hair a bit more of a mess, his clothes a little more askew. It put Dipper on edge.

“Tad, are you alright?” Dipper managed to choke out, waving some of the smoke out of his eyes.

Tad snapped his head to Dipper, his eyes wide, as if he just recognized Dipper’s presence. “I was… making breakfast… for us….” he said slowly, his eyes drawn to the pan.

“The food was burning, Tad,” Dipper explained hesitantly. Tad was acting incredibly weird. The man didn’t speak for several moments, and Dipper was afraid Tad was going to lash out.

“I thought you died…” Tad murmured, his voice barely inaudible.

“What?” Dipper didn’t quite make out what Tad had said. Then, remarkably, a wave of calmness seemed to wash over Tad. He stood taller, squaring his shoulders, and ran his hand through his hair, making it more presentable. His whole attitude changed too, and he turned to face Dipper head on, a dark look in his eye.

“Where were you last night?” Tad asked accusingly, reaching towards something on his hip.

“We stayed at the post,” Dipper said, backing away to go sit at the table. Dipper heard the sound of metal clanking against each other, and he looked to see Tad getting his key ring from his belt loop. Dipper would have paid no mind to it now, if it weren’t for one particular key.

One particular key that had the initials FHMc engraved on it.

Dipper couldn’t tear his eyes away from the key. Was it the key that unlocked the box down in the study?

“The post,” Tad repeated, pulling off a key from the ring before tossing it on the table. He walked over to a locked cupboard and jammed the key inside the lock, turning it and pulling the door open.

“Yeah…” Dipper saw his chance, and decided to take it. He just needed to keep Tad distracted long enough. He got up as quietly as he could, getting closer to the keys. “The weather got bad, and Bill suggested that we stay the night and wait out the storm,” Dipper rambled on loudly to mask the sound of the keys making noise. The banging from inside the cupboard paused, and Dipper froze.

“Bill suggested that, huh?” Tad’s tone was dangerous to Dipper’s ear.

“Y-yeah! He didn’t want to risk getting into an accident on the way back,” Dipper’s voice shook a little, and much to his relief he managed to get the key off the ring. He scrambled back to his seat and sat down just as Tad reemerged from cupboard. In his hands he held several pots and pans, as well as a small brown sack. He kicked the door close and made his way back, unceremoniously dropping the items he held onto the table.

Tad muttered something under his breath, and to Dipper is strangely sounded like, ‘If only’. Dipper eyed the man, he could feel the key burning in his hand, and he hoped Tad didn’t notice it was missing. Under the table, Dipper managed to slip the key into his pocket.

Then, there was another mood change in Tad.

“Would you like some tea, Dipper?” he asked too nicely. Dipper didn’t want to know what would happen if he refused, so he took up Tad’s offer. They let the silence fall around them. Dipper couldn’t find a topic to talk about, and he had a feeling that Tad didn’t want to speak to him in general. Tad went about his business, preparing the tea, while Dipper tried to keep his cool. When should he go to the study? The most realistic time would be to go when Bill and Tad went to sleep, but that could be any possible time in the middle of the night, and Dipper really didn’t want to be wandering around in the dark.

Dipper was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Tad retrieving the brown sack and empty some of it’s contents in the tea kettle.

When the tea kettle played it’s high toned shrill, Tad pulled out a cup from the cabinet and poured Dipper some tea. He was placing the cup in front of Dipper when they both heard the front doors opening. Dipper picked up the cup and took a sip, only to cough up some of the liquid. “That’s - that’s a little stronger than you usually make it,” Dipper coughed as Bill walked into the kitchen.

“What’s a little stronger?” Bill asked, looking between the two momentarily before asking another question. “Also why does it smell like smoke in here? Tad, you haven’t been smoking have you?”

Tad just rolled his eyes, “Dipper was talking about the _tea_ , Bill.” He stressed the word, and Tad watched as Bill’s face paled some, looking quickly at Dipper. Dipper was currently wiping his mouth with the back of his palm, missing the brief exchange. Bill looked back at Tad and shot him a glare, to which Tad merely shrugged. Tad continued to speak, “Also I haven’t smoked since you quit.”

Dipper looked at Bill. “You smoked?” he asked incredulously, his eyebrow quirking. He never pegged Bill as the type.

“Ah, it was a long, long time ago,” Bill said awkwardly, watching helplessly as Dipper drank more of his tea.

“A year ago,” Tad corrected him.

Bill ignored the comment. “You don’t have to drink the tea if you don’t like it, Pinetree.”

Tad shot his own glare at Bill then. “Oh, but he must! It would be so rude of him not to accept.”

Dipper shook his head, “It’s fine Bill, really, I don’t mind it.” At that moment, Dipper erupted into a fit of coughs, and Bill was by his side immediately, rubbing soothing circles on Dipper’s back. Bill plucked the cup from Dipper’s hands, placing it back on the table.

“Perhaps you should refrain from drinking the tea,” Bill spoke presumably to Dipper, but he glanced up at Tad with a warning. Tad shrugged again nonchalantly, and began to remaking breakfast. Once Dipper calmed down, Bill helped him up from his seat. “If you don’t mind,” Bill started, eyeing Dipper worriedly, “I have to speak with Tad for a moment.”

Dipper didn’t object, eager to get out of the man’s presence, and started to walk out of the kitchen, but Bill caught him gently by the arm.

“I left Mabel’s letter in our bedroom,” Bill told him before letting go. Dipper blushed a little at Bill’s wording of ‘our bedroom’.

And Tad didn’t miss it either.

With a quick “Thank you”, Dipper hastily walked out of the kitchen. He was glad that he was putting at least a little distance between himself and Tad, but he couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about now.

The route to the bedroom was familiar to Dipper now thankfully, and he wasted no time in getting to Mabel’s letter. He gently shut the door behind himself, spotting the letter on his side of the bed. His side. He smiled at the thought. The thought of his side of the bed. Our bedroom. Although he wasn’t too sure about wanting the house though. Bill could have it to himself.

Once Dipper made it to the bed, he picked up the letter gently, his eyes tracing the neat cursive writing on it’s front. It was comforting to Dipper, seeing that handwriting. It reminded him of home. Of Mabel. Wendy, Soos, Uncle Ford…

Dipper stopped his thoughts there. He still wasn’t over his death whatsoever, even if it did seem so long ago now.

Dipper carefully opened the letter, not wanting it to rip, and wasn’t surprised to see just how long the letter was. He sat on the bed as he read:

 

 

_Dear Dipper,_

_How have you been, Bro-bro? I miss you so much! Everyone misses you actually. Things just aren’t the same without you around. Wendy has been bored out her mind; she says hello by the way! There’s been some changes around Gravity Falls lately. For starters, Soos has a girlfriend now! And the sly dog didn’t even need my help! Her name’s Melody, I believe. Soos has been living with her for a little while now, and I’m pretty sure they’re going to get married! So be expecting a wedding invitation here soon! Also, you won’t believe this, but I think Pacifica and I are friends now? I don’t really know it happened really. It’s super weird, but Paz and I are going shopping next week. I’ll have to let you know how that goes._

_Another super mega huge important change too. Gruncle Stan actually left us his company, and the building too. And by us I also mean Uncle Ford too. He’s been overseeing everything, but I’m pretty sure he’s trying to coax me into running the business. Could you image that! ME, running this big ol’ thing? Crazy!_

_But speaking of Uncle Ford, there’s something else that I wanted to tell you. He and I have been talking lately… about Bill actually. I do hope he’s treating you well, but… I think there might be more to him then we realized. Uncle Ford keeps calling him “dangerous”, and I definitely do not like the way that sounds at all. I would tell you everything but, even I don’t really know what to make of it at this point, or even to believe it for that matter. I guess what I’m saying is be careful. Bill’s apparently not all what he seems. And I hate to say it, but I think Grunkle Stan might have been right in his judgement._

_Stay safe. For me._

_-Mabel_

_P.S. There may be a chance that I can come and visit you. I’ll let you know in advance about what’s going on._

 

 

Mabel stared at the letter, setting down her pen. She reread it once, twice, three times before deciding that it was good enough. She folded the letter neatly, placing it inside the envelope and sealing it. And there it sat, in the middle of her desk, and all she could do right then was stare at it.

Mabel was worried. Beyond worried. What if Uncle Ford was right? What is those newspaper clippings were true? She didn’t want to think about it, but her mind refused to calm down.

Was Dipper really in danger?

She didn’t think she could survive if something happened to Dipper while he was with Bill. She had already lost one family member, and so help her she did not want to lose another. Mabel recalled the night it happened.  

Uncle Ford had found her several nights after Dipper had left. She was still in the building, making sure everyone had left before locking up and heading home, when Uncle Stan walked inside to find her. Mabel recalled that he looked really upset, troubled about something. The two sat down to talk for a while, and the very first thing he said to her was,

“I think Dipper is in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” Mabel asked him, now at high alert.

“Dipper left with Bill a couple days ago, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Did Lee ever show you what I found?”

“No.”

He began to rummage through his bag, and pulled out a folder. “He had asked me to do a little digging on Bill Cipher and his friend Tad Strange.”

He handed the folder to Mabel, who opened the folder carefully, as if it’s contents would bite her. What she found though was much, much worse. Her hands shook as she read the papers.

“What…?” she choked out to no one.

Uncle Ford pulled out one of the papers to examine it. “I couldn’t believe it either. It’s strange to think that you know someone and then you find something like… this,” he gestured to the folder.

Mabel shoved the papers back to Uncle Ford. She didn’t want to look at them. Didn’t want to acknowledge them. She wanted them to be wrong, but the look Uncle Lee was giving her, and with Dipper at a possible risk…

“W-what do we do?” she asked uneven.

“We,” Uncle Lee began, collecting the papers back and putting them in the folder. “should probably pay them a visit.”

“A visit?”

“Of course. We want to check up on Dipper and make sure he’s alright, don’t we?”

“But… we can’t just invite ourselves over there. We don’t even have the money to avoid the trip for both of us.”

“We have a lot more money than you realize, Mabel.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, but pressed on. “But again, we can’t invite ourselves over.”

Uncle Ford scratched his beard, thinking. “You could write him a letter.”

“A letter?”

“Yes. Write him a letter, tell him what’s been going on in Gravity Falls without him. Then, you can tell him about Bill, and somehow slide in the possibility of a visit.”

Mabel tapped her fingers nervously on the table. She didn’t know what to do, what to think. Everything came so suddenly. It all made her head hurt. A lot. Uncle Ford leaned forward, every ounce of possible worry etched into his features.

“Mabel, if we don’t act quickly, we might lose Dipper too.”

The words struck Mabel like a block of cement. She looked at him and saw the seriousness in his eyes. She took a deep, unsteady breath and said, “Alright.”

They spent most of the night devising a plan. The stayed well past midnight and into the early morning, pitching ideas back and forth and arguing here and there. But, when sunrise came, they had a solid plan.

Mabel would write the letter like Uncle Ford had told her (and she personally decided to ghost over what Bill has actually done so Dipper wouldn’t freak out any more). Then, they would send the letter within the month. If they did not receive a reply in that month and then the next, they would begin the journey to Europe. If they did receive a letter, they would go to Europe that following month.

Mabel didn’t like it. She didn’t like having the constant reminder that Dipper could be alone somewhere. Locked away. Dead. It chilled her. Made her cold. If anything happened to Dipper, anything at all, and Bill had been behind it… Mabel swore she would… she would…

Mabel looked back down at the letter. In a way, it was taunting her. _He might be dead_ it said. _He might be dead before I even get there, or he might get me, rip me open, read me, only to die moments later. And you’ll never know._ Mabel covered the letter with her hand, silencing it. God she really needed to get some sleep.

But even as she laid down to rest, she could still hear that damn letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ominous chapter is ominous.


	13. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ACK. Sorry for not updating last Thursday! Life just got incredibly in the way. It's literally the worst but I shall power through! For all you lovelies! Enjoy the chapter y'all :)
> 
> -V

"What is the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with me?"

"Yes! Why are you acting so..."

"So what?"

"So different! Like you actually care about him!"

"I haven't been acting any different and I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't give me that bullshit. The moment you got back in town you've been acting strange."

"That's hilarious coming from you."

"I bet it is. It's even more hilarious to think that you might feel something for him."

"..."

"You do don't you?"

"I never said that."

"I can see it all over your face. You care for him."

"I don't-"

"You actually like him?"

"You're being unreasonable-"

"Me? Unreasonable? Have you forgotten the whole reason we brought him here?!"

"No! No...no I haven't forgotten."

"Good. The only thing you should care about is us and our goal. And me."

"..."

"What?"

"What if..."

"What if?"

"What if there was another way?"

"There is no other way."

"But there must be-"

"This is the only way."

"Killing him cannot surely be the only way."

"It is. It's what we agreed to do, remember?"

"I know but..."

"But what, dear?"

"Don't touch me."

"..."

"..."

"You really do love him."

"..."

"Well isn't this just great."

"Listen-"

"No, you listen! If you fuck this up for the both of us, Dipper isn't going to be the only one that's haunted for the rest of his life. Got it?"

"I'm not going to fuck this up."

"Good. Now go deliver him his tea, he never finished it."

“And then what?”

“And then we will figure out what to do with him.”

 

**V^**

 

Bill stood outside his bedroom door, cup of tea in hand and his fist raised, ready to knock. He had been standing there for a good minute now, his mind completely blank, eyes trained on the dark liquid in the cup. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him, to Tad, especially not to Dipper. But...

"Don't fuck this up, Cipher," he hissed to himself. "Don't ruin what you have going for you."

He knocked twice before slowly opening the door and peeking in. He saw Dipper standing next to the fireplace, his back facing Bill. He was slightly hunched over, and he appeared to be reading something. Bill slid into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. Somehow Dipper had yet to turn around and acknowledge him.

"Pinetree?"

Bill didn't miss the way Dipper freaked out, jumping as he spun around quickly. He was breathing heavy, his fist pressed against his heaving chest, a crumpled piece of paper in his grasp. Dipper was looking at him with an odd expression, his eyes  glassy, his eyebrows drawn together. "Bill," he breathed, his voice a little shaky.

"The one and only," Bill joked lightly, slowly walking over to Dipper. He saw the way Dipper leaned away just a tad, putting distance between them subtly. Bill frowned, "Are you alright?"

Dipper nodded.

"Is anything the matter?"

Many things Dipper wanted to say, but instead he nodded again, allowing Bill to kiss his forehead. He needed to think, even if for a brief moment. "How is your eye?" Dipper rushed out.

Bill blinked at him, moving his free hand to trace over his stitches. He had surprisingly gotten used to only seeing out of one eye pretty quickly. Now he covered it up with his hair so Dipper wouldn't have to see it, but something told him that Dipper didn't even mind it at all.

"It's getting better actually," Bill said truthfully. "Most of the pain has gone away by now, though I still need to clean it."

"Let me clean it for you!" Dipper insisted, moving around Bill to head to the bathroom. Bill didn't object as he watched Dipper go. Once he was out of the room, Bill threw the cup of tea into the fireplace, the glass tinkering as it shattered over the logs.

"What was that?" Dipper called from the bathroom.

"Oh nothing!" Bill assured, using his foot to shove some of the shards into the fireplace. When he was sure that there weren't anymore visible shards, he followed Dipper into the bathroom.

The water was running, and Dipper was standing in front of the sink, dampening a washcloth under the water. He didn't look up as Bill entered the room, his eyes focused on the water pouring into the sink. Bill passed Dipper and walked over to the toilet, flipping the lid over so he could sit on it.

They said nothing to each other for the longest time, both afraid to break the silence that fell between them. Dipper shut off the water after rubbing soap into the washcloth and turned to Bill. Bill saw the hesitation there, but Dipper seemed to power through it as he came close. He was about to kneel on the ground when Bill grabbed him by the wrist.

"It may be easier if you were to go about it," Bill began, dragging Dipper to sit in his lap, "like this."

Dipper found himself straddling Bill, and he refused to blush as much as possible, but with Bill it didn't seem possible to do.

Even after reading the letter.

Bill leaned back a little, allowing Dipper to move his arms more. Dipper didn't say a word as he gently pushed back Bill's hair, revealing those stitches and scars. His eyes traced the stitches, and he wondered how much it hurt to get those done, or if Bill had been unconscious during the procedure. His eyes wandered further left, spotting another scar that adorned Bill's face.

"How did you get this?" Dipper asked softly, tracing a finger over the scar that traveled down Bill's left cheek.  Bill watched Dipper closely, seriously, but he let out a huff of laughter.

"My father actually."

Dipper's eyes widened at that, and he set about wiping the washcloth over the stitches, careful not to hurt Bill. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to Bill."

"Not much to tell," Bill closed his eye, thinking back in his memory. The whole thing was still foggy, but he remembered most of the incident. "I was young, maybe 11 or so. I had stumbled in on my parents work and completely ruined it. I ended up with a knife to my face because of it. Father was livid at my interference."

"What was your parents work?" Dipper inquired.

"They were... seekers, if you will. They invented many things, most of which I still haven't seen, all to find this one thing. They were obsessed. No, addicted was the better word for it. They were wholly addicted. They lived and breathed their work, and more often than not I had to fend for myself on the worst days."

Dipper frowned, "That was selfish of them."

Bill chuckled. "I guess you could say it was. But not long after the fiasco I met Tad. He sort of... filled the role of my parents for me."

"What was Tad like? Back then, I mean." Dipper couldn't help but ask, the phrasing of Bill's words making him think.

"The same as now honestly. He was always there for me, and in a weird way I sort of owe him for it."

Dipper's eyebrows drew together. "Owe him?"

Bill smiled, giving Dipper a chaste kiss on the lips. "In a sense. But not anymore."

Dipper fiddled with the washcloth in his hands, refusing to look at Bill in the eye. "I have so many questions," he admitted, his voice low.

"You know you can ask me anything, Pinetree."

"I know but..." Dipper felt so conflicted. He truly had so many questions, and after reading the letter he had more. But he was afraid of asking them, afraid of the response he would get.

Was he in danger?

Is Bill actually dangerous?

Would Bill ever harm him?

And what about the house?

The forest?

The basement?

The ghosts?

Was he going to die in this house?

Was there something going on that he doesn't know about?

Was there something more to Grunkle Stan's death?

What does Bill know?

Is it just Bill?

Or is it Tad too?

What is going on?

What is the matter with him?

Was he going insane?

Should he leave?

Or should he stay?

Dipper was afraid of the truth. And yet the truth was what he needed so desperately. He needed some sort of truth to continue on, to motivate him to carry on.

But what was that truth?

What did he need?

What did he need from Bill?

"Do you love me?"

Dipper's breath got caught in his lungs, the question running from his mouth before he had a chance to stop it. He sounded so desperate, so scared. He felt Bill tense. Dipper needed to breath. Did he need to breath? He found Bill's eye to be searching him, his face. And he wasn't saying anything.

And it was scaring Dipper. It was scaring him so much it hurt. It hurt everywhere. Embarrassed, Dipper made to get up off Bill, but an arm snuck around his waist, anchoring him down. He looked at Bill, wanting and yet not wanting the inevitable truth.

"I'm not going to fuck this up," Bill said aloud to himself, and Dipper gave him a confused look.

"I love you, Dipper Pines. I love you so much it hurts. I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, to pretend everything is alright when really the world is burning around us."

Bill leaned in close, resting his head on Dipper's shoulder, his nose against Dipper's neck.

"I once thought that I was incapable of love. That I was a hollow and soulless man bound to wander this desolate earth for eternity. And I'm ashamed to say that there was a time where I accepted this fate, thinking that that was to best I was ever going to receive. But then you walked into my life, Pinetree. I think back to the day we first met, seeing you for the first time, reading bits of your novel that afternoon. I loathe myself for my intentions back then, but now I barely regret them. Now that I have you with me. Pinetree, you don't deserve someone like me, and don't you dare say otherwise. I only ask that you accept me, my flaws and all, and tell me with honesty that you may find room in your heart to say that you love me too."

Dipper tilted his head just a bit, enough to see Bill better from the corner of his eyes. He looked so… tired. So drawn. Dipper ran his fingers through Bill’s messy hair, untangling the strands. It was strange to sit here like this, like nothing was wrong, like the world wasn’t ablaze. It was strange and yet… it was wonderful to just be here. With him. He was comfortable but he should feel vulnerable, happy instead of terrified, content instead of unsettled.

“I love you,” Dipper whispered, resting his cheek in Bill’s hair. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

Warnings be damned. They would get through this.

They would get through this together.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Wr oryh lv wr exuq, wr eh rq iluh.”


	14. Fiddleford H. McGucket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had nothing but coffee all day, and I have a wicked headache, but low and behold this glorious, plot heavy chapter.
> 
> *throws chapter at readers* TAKE MY LOVE. *collapses*
> 
> On a side note though, I will be taking a tiny hiatus this coming week, but I will be back the following week. So do not fear, V will still be here! Also, we are coming up on the home stretch for Golden Hills!! AHHH. There really is going to be only a few chapters left. I never would have imagined that I would get this far honestly. Thank you so much to all those who read GH thus far, this is all for y'all. <3
> 
> Enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> -V
> 
> PS- I swear everything will make sense by the end of the story, PROMISE. This craziness will only last for a little bit longer

Dipper woke that night with the image of Grunkle Stan’s blood on his hands. It was everywhere, his hands, his legs, his face. He lurched from bed, a cry on his lips. He could still see it all, the wounds that riddled Stan’s face, the way the marred flesh had been crusted over with blood. His breathing was heavy, unsteady, and he swiped his palm across his mouth when he felt something trickle down his chin. He looked down at his hand, and in the moonlight he saw Stan’s blood smeared over his fingers.

And then Dipper snapped out of it.

And realized that it was his own blood.

He scrambled out of the bed, tripping as the blankets tangled between his legs. Dipper looked back at the bed and found that his pillow was stained red. He also found that Bill wasn’t there. Again. Something inside Dipper broke at that instant as he began coughing painfully, more blood splurting out from his mouth. He stumbled his way into the bathroom, flipping the toilet lid up and falling to his knees as he began to vomit up blood. Dipper stayed like that until the episode passed, elbows propped up on the seat with his head in his hands.

How did it get like this?

Eventually Dipper managed to get up, wrapping an arm around his waist as if he could will his stomach to stop hurting. His movements were slow as he walked back into the bedroom. It was when he stopped at the foot of the bed did he notice something else. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and if he were to look he could see the goosebumps running down his arms. Someone was watching him. Something. It was an unsettling feeling, and Dipper looked around everywhere but couldn’t see anything. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t something here Dipper told himself as he looked about. And an odd idea struck him, and possibly a dangerous one, but he stuck out his hand and held it in the air.

“If anyone is here, give me a sign,” he whispered into the dark. “Touch my hand. Make a noise. Anything.”

And he stood there. Waiting. Wondering. Worrying. He was about to ask another question before he heard a light knock from inside the room. Then there was the creak of the floorboards below him. Then nothing. Dipper couldn’t calm his breathing. Something was going to happen. Something was going to show itself. Something was going to actually hurt-

Something grabbed his hand, and a burning sensation ripped through his arm as his was pulled to the floor head first, just barely missing the wooden bed frame. On the ground he could hear the sound of something circling him, but his eyes couldn’t see the figure. I need to go, I need to leave, I need to get out of here, now, now, now, now. And then Dipper remembered. He searched his pockets, having gone straight to bed in his clothes from earlier, and his fingers brushed against something cold. The key. With a plan in mind, Dipper got himself up off the floor, wincing in pain, and rushing to the bedroom door as quickly as he could. He could still hear the floorboards creaking when he slammed the door closed. Now it was a matter of getting to the elevator.

Unharmed.

With his last nighttime voyage still fresh in his mind, Dipper navigated his way through the hallways on high alert. He was watching, welding, wavering with each step into a new hallway. There was a second where he swore he saw it down at the end of a hallway, with it’s towering body leaning to the side in order to stand, but when he blinked it was gone. But in his mind it was there. So he used his paranoia to move faster, walk quicker, as soon he found himself standing in front of the old elevator. He pulled open the gated door and slipped inside. He pulled the lever and with a jerk the elevator began to descend. At the last second, Dipper looked back into the hallway.

He saw it standing there.

At the end.

Waving.

When the elevator stopped moving Dipper could still feel himself shaking as he walked out. The lights were dim this time, and several candles were lit about the study area. Dipper could still see those metal containers to the side, all four of them gleaming like jewels. But Dipper knew better than to go over there again. Instead, he made his way to the tables, passing the first few and leaning down to one of them. Sure enough, the locked chest was still there, untouched and dusty.

Dipper grabbed one of the side handles and pulled it out from under the table. Dust that had collected on the lid flew into the air as he set it down on the table’s surface, pushing aside several books and papers. At last he would get to see what was inside the chest. He couldn’t help chuckling, entertaining the possibility that the chest’s contents could be nothing more than old papers or something useless. He fished the key from his pocket, bringing it out to hold it under a candle’s light. The key was rusted quite a bit, but it couldn’t be more than 20 years old or so.

Carefully as he could manage, Dipper pushed the key into the keyhole and turned. He heard several clicks before the chest lid popped up. More dust flew out into Dipper’s face, and he coughed into his hand, waving the dust away. He was afraid to look, but he checked his hand. Speckles of blood ran across his thumb. That wasn’t a good sign. With a sigh, Dipper opened the chest all the way and peered inside. It was a book.

A simple journal actually. It’s bounded in dark leather, and thin ropes binded the journal closed. There looked to be different symbols drawn onto the cover, but Dipper couldn’t make out what they were, too faded to really recognize any distinctions. He picked up the journal almost reverently, flipping it onto it’s back. There were more symbols drawn, but he still couldn’t recognize anything. He unwound the ropes carefully, placing them all on the table. Dipper flipped to the first page.

_Poverty of Fiddleford H. McGucket._

Curious, Dipper leafed through a couple of the pages, his eyes glazing over various words that were written on the different pages.

_...come to Europe…_

_...searching for money…_

_...large forest…_

_...parents were oblivious…_

_...adopt Bill…_

Dipper immediately stopped on the page he was at, reading the entire sentence.

_It was weeks later when Tad  told me of his plans to adopt Bill and legally claim him as his own son._

Dipper’s face scrunched together. Tad...adopted Bill? But that didn’t make any sense at all, they were the same age weren’t they? He flipped back the pages he skipped over and began reading the entries.

_My work takes me everywhere it seems. Being an engineer was perhaps the best decision I could have made, but now I find myself in a predicament. My newest client, a Sir Tad Strange, asked me to come to Europe. He offered me a large sum of money, incredibly the most money anyone has ever offered, how could I say no to that?_

Dipper skipped several sentences that pertained to the voyage there.

_I met with Strange for the first time in person at a small restaurant in the next town over. He was a very odd character I remember. There was just something about him that didn’t seem quite right. Like he either wasn’t fully there or that he was in the place. And when he talked, he sounded so vague and distant, but yet for some reason I was drawn to the man. He seemed to have this way about him where it made you feel like the only important person in the world, as if you and you alone were the at the center of it all. And he was your sole audience member, giving you his undivided attention, listening to your every word and agreeing with everything you said so politely that you couldn’t even notice he was actually saying the exact opposite. It was remarkable, and in a way terrifying at how just alluring it truly was. After our first meeting, I came to realize something about him. It was the way he talked that gave it away. He was searching for money, a lot of money, but for what he never said. He asked about possible profits, how profitable it would be if he hired me, how much he would lose if I failed, how much he would gain if I succeeded. I decided that night that I work agree to work with him, and within the following week we had yet another meeting, and I found myself in a carriage on the way to a manor with all of my bags packed, my entire life in four medium sized containers._

_There’s a forest that surrounds the manor, a large forest. Possibly the biggest one I’ve ever seen. It looked like it could stretch for miles and miles and it wouldn’t ever stop. As I passed through that forest I wondered just what was in there. What creatures lurked behind trees and beneath bushes. It was tempting to look, even if just for a moment, but when I reached the manor and Strange greeted me, I asked him about it. He looked me dead in the eyes, and I still remember exactly what he told me. “Those woods can kill. People get trapped there for days, weeks and find no means of escape. I advise you to never step a single foot beyond that treeline, lest you have a deathwish.”_

Dipper felt his blood run cold. Tad knew about the forest, what it was capable of. What else did he know? He should probably feel lucky in knowing that he was only gone for a few days but still... He could have died out there without even knowing. Dipper turned to the next page.

_The manor wasn’t his. It actually belonged to a couple, Mister and Missus Cipher. I never really met the family except for their son, William. He came to greet me and Strange when we walked into the manor, and I had never seen a child so bright. He was smart, amazingly so at just 9 years old. He had so many stories and theories, it reminded me of myself when I was growing up. But when I asked about his parents and his family, he would always grow gravely quiet. Strange explained to me that his parents were oblivious to him. They kept his room up in the attic, and he would have one of the maids tend to him and care for him. They were always busy, but too busy to see their own son? I remember saying that William’s father had little sense betraying his child like that, and Strange had told me I was wrong. “I am his father now,” he told me. “And I look after my child as if he were the very thing keeping me alive.”_

Dipper again skipped several paragraphs. They were detailed with work and various notes, all of which made little sense to him, and he stopped at the next journal entry.

_The manor caught fire. I’m not sure how I survived but I did, along with Tad and Bill. The rest though… every single one of them perished, including Mister and Missus Cipher themselves. Apparently the fire started in the basement and worked it’s way up, and to my knowledge that was where Mister and Missus Cipher were. But why so late? It had to be about midnight when it happened. I managed to get out before it reached my room, but when I saw no one else coming outside I thought I was the only one. But then I see Tad, carrying Bill in his arms, walking out of the burning manor so casually, like as if they had done this many times before. He handed me the boy and told me to go to the next town over for the night. I didn’t question it at the time, but now I wonder... I never asked how the fire started, but I have a feeling that if I asked Tad he would say he didn’t know either, even if he did._

_It was weeks later when Tad  told me of his plans to adopt Bill and legally claim him as his own son. I told Tad that it might not be the best idea to do so, considering that Bill may actually have other relatives to go to, but Tad refused to listen to me. “I’m his father,” he told me. “I was his father the moment I laid eyes on him.” I had asked Bill how he felt about all of this, and he said he was alright with it. “So long as I don’t disappoint him,” Bill said to me._

_Those words still trouble me greatly._

Dipper set down the journal for a moment, letting the information sink in. It was impossible for this to be real. It had to be. It just didn’t make sense. Why did Tad look so young? Surely he must have been an adult by the time of the...adoption, but now he would have to look older if Bill was 9 at the time. Why didn’t Tad look older? And why hasn’t Bill said anything about this to him? Dipper was troubled, and yet he picked up the journal and flipped through it again. Halfway in he found the last entry. It was dangerously short, and certain sentences were scratched out or had lines drawn through them.

_~~I think I’m dying.~~ I know I’m dying. And I know who is behind it. I just don’t understand, we worked so hard and we built ------ Why would Tad do this to me? ~~I don’t deserve to die like this~~ \---------- -------- -------- The tea, it was surely the tea. Why did I drink the tea? That must be why he was so adamant about me drinking it. -------- He’s the most ------- --------- -------- - ---- - and Bill doesn’t know anything._

There was ink spilled out onto the bottom half of the page, obscuring the words into oblivion. Dipper read, reread, and read it all again. The tea…? Could it possibly be the tea? He closed the journal, winding the ropes over it like it had been before.

Tad was a killer.

Tad killed McGucket.

Tad was killing him.

Dipper felt like throwing up again. Why, why, why, why, why was Tad doing this? Why had he done this? And did Bill know of this? Everything? Or was he just as in the dark as Dipper himself? Dipper’s head hurt immensely, as did his stomach. He suddenly then heard someone whispering to him. It was soft, alluring, and for a split second Dipper was entranced. But then he remembered.

The golden lady.

He whipped around to face the sound, nearly knocking himself into the table. There, in the one of the containers, was the lady. She was leaning over the container’s edge, her head tilted. She didn’t need eyes for Dipper to know that she was looking at him. And then she spoke, and it sounded strangely different than he had remembered.

“I see you’ve read the journal,” she said, tilting her head to the other side.

Dipper was hesitant to respond, but she seemed to know something about the journal, something that he didn’t. “I did,” was all he told her, confirming her observation.

“Don’t believe everything you read in that there book. After a while, McGucket began to go...crazy.”

“Did you know him?”

She laughed, the sound echoing off the walls like bells. “I didn’t know him _personally_ , but I did watch him work. He did a marvelous job helping us.”

“Us?” Dipper questioned, and despite his better judgement stepped closer in the direction of the container.

“Yes, he did a mighty fine job of helping us. Even laid down his life for the cause!” She pushed herself away from the edge and began to walk in circles in the container.

“What do you know about Tad Strange?” Dipper pried, hoping she would give him more information on the man. She stopped her movements then, turning to face Dipper head on.

“Why, Mister Tad Strange and I get along quite nicely. He and I are friends you know? Brought me to this nice little house he obtained, gave me this beautiful body to call my own. I owe the man my life, even if he doesn’t have a need for it.”

“Why did you try to kill me?” Dipper couldn’t help but ask, finding himself right up against the container now. The golden lady gave him a look before coming closer to him. She reached out to him, tracing a long slender finger across his cheek.

“All creatures get hungry, don’t you know,” she told him matter-of-factly. “Some of us haven’t gotten a decent meal in since…” She paused.

“Since your new friend McGucket.”

The lady suddenly covered Dipper’s face with her hand and pushed him backwards. With a shout, Dipper fell on his butt in front of the container.

“My last meal was a sweet little pig,” Dipper heard her say with a laugh as he laid there. Suddenly it dawned on him, and he scrambled up off the floor.

“You ate Waddles?!” he cried, but when he reached the edge, but he found that the golden lady was no longer there.

Dipper wouldn’t be able to explain it, but he felt like he lost his best friend at that moment.

 

**V^**

 

Dipper stood outside the bedroom door, resting his forehead against the wood. He felt...he didn’t know how he felt honestly. He didn’t know what to think either. He closed his sore eyes, taking in deep, steady breaths. He needed to talk to Bill. He needed to talk to him now, but Dipper had no idea if he was still gone or if he was actually in the bedroom now. And oddly enough, he didn’t want to know. But he made himself lean off the door, grab the door handle, and open the door. He walked in, and it took every fiber of his being not to walk out.

Tad was in the room. Standing by the fireplace. The key ring in his hand. Looking directly at him.

“Dipper.”

The way he spoke was tense, his manor not at all alluring like McGucket described him to be, and Dipper froze in place.

“T-Tad. What are you doing here?”

Tad looked away then, his eyes falling on the unlit fireplace. “I came in here to find Bill.”

Dipper took a cautious step forward. “So late at night?”

“Yes. I had an idea for the machine and I came to look for him, but I didn’t find him in here.”

Dipper knew Tad was lying.

“And I found that you were gone too,” Tad concluded, looking up at Dipper. He set the key ring down on the table.

“I-I stepped out for a moment,” Dipper rushed. “I woke up ill in the middle of the night and I needed some fresh air.”

“I noticed,” Tad gestured to the bloody pillow still on the bed. “I don’t suppose tea would help?”

“No!” Dipper rejected fast, too fast, and Tad raised an eyebrow at him. Dipper was quick to correct himself, “I t-think I may just need water instead.”

Tad nodded slowly. “I will get you some then.”

He passed Dipper and walked into the bathroom. Dipper’s eyes followed his movements, and when he was out of sight he rushed over to the key ring. He put McGucket’s key back on the ring and stepped back to where he stood before, praying that Tad wouldn’t notice.

Tad came back, a cup of water in hand. He handed the glass to Dipper, who took it gratefully and began to drink. Tad eyed him, and Dipper couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he watched the man go back over to the table to pick up the keys. Dipper walked away, trying to put as much distance between them as possible without tipping Tad off. He heard the metallic clanks of the key hitting one another.

The first mistake Dipper made was turn his back to Tad.

“Did you know Dipper…” Tad began from behind him, “that the thing I hate most in the world?”

“N-no…” Dipper replied. He didn’t like the shift in tone he heard, but he was too afraid to look back at Tad.

“The thing I hate the absolute most…”

There was a moment of silence. Dipper held his breath. Waiting.

The second mistake Dipper made was not leaving the bedroom when he had the chance.

“ _Are liars like you Dipper._ ”

The next thing he knew, Dipper was hit on the side of his head with something hard. He collapsed on the floor, watching as the darkness flooded him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ULS ZDGGOHV


	15. The Monster, Awake and Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see, lovely readers!! How have y'all been? And, happy holidays to everyone! I wanted to write an extra long chapter as a present to you all. And I ended up starting over multiple times and rewriting numerous paragraphs and such. This chapter didn't want to be written for some reason, but hopefully you all will like it! Also, my little hiatus is over, so these last couple of updates will be more frequent. Again, happy holidays, and enjoy reading! :)
> 
> -V
> 
> P.S.- I started another fic if any of you guys are interested called The Price of Beauty. I haven't gotten very far with it and it'll be relatively short, but it's another BillDip story wherein Bill is a model and Dipper is fashion designer. *End shameless plug here*

_He was standing in the middle of an open clearing. It was bright, too bright, blindingly so. But the sunlight didn’t hurt his eyes as he stared off into the distance, looking for something, anything. It was hard to distinguish anything really, but he could see rolling hills that went on for miles and miles, the sunlight giving them a subtle yellow glow. A strange warmth radiated around him, but it wasn’t at all comforting. In fact, it was worrying. Where was he?_

Something wounded around his wrists, his ankles, his arms, his legs, pulling tight, and the friction burned his skin like fire.

_He turned around, trying to find something that stood out, something that he recognized. He faltered to a halt as the mansion came into view. Or at least he thought it was the mansion. It was so far away, almost like a speck of sand buried in gold. Then, something emerged. It was tall, nothing but bones that barely clung together by bits of flesh and cloth that covered its body. It’s...face? head? was caved in, a soft glow radiated from the opening. Something inside of his brain clicked, registered, as if he had seen this being before._

Something found it’s way over his already closed eyes, and it was tied in a knot in the back, gathering some of his hair in the process as the ends were pulled.

_It just stood there, looking at him, and he couldn’t turn away. He found that he was rooted in the spot, and he watched helplessly, but in awe, as the mansion started moving...closer? It’s vast image was growing bigger and bigger in his limited vision, a staggering inch by inch. He tore his eyes from the mansion that was closing the distance, and looked back at the being, who also was now closer. It was several yards away, and he could clearly see how ugly it was, how old it was, and yet it all clung together somehow. It raised a lanky arm, pointing it’s skeletal finger at the coming mansion._

Something was shoved into his mouth, gagging him, the soft material filling him to the point where no noise could be made past his lips, and then more material was wrapped around his jaws, his head, securing the gag in place.

_‘Beware,’ it spoke, the voice just barely above a whisper when it reached his ears. It’s raised arm shook violently as the mansion came closer and closer now. He found his voice then, and shouted, “Beware what?!” The being tilted it gaping head, lowering its arm. ‘Beware the golden hills.’ He then heard laughing all about, and with each passing second it grew louder and louder. He covered his ears when the sound became unbearable. He looked up and saw the being bent over, actually wheezing. With each strange intake of breath, the glow that emitted from the hole in it’s head grew brighter, stronger, until it was almost a spotlight. It stood up straight, and the spotlight shone right in his face. Then the laughter stopped, and the silence was filled with screaming._

He screamed.

_‘BUT IT LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE ALREADY HERE, HUH PINETREE?’_

_And Dipper screamed as the mansion crashed into him._

He was screaming. But it didn’t sound like screams, it was too muffled. He violently shook against his restraints, the legs of the chair he was in hitting the floor hard, the sound echoing into his ears. The ropes were bound too strong, too tight, but he continued his battle against them as his tried his best to cry out for help. The blindfold over his eyes dampened from his tears. The world around him was black, and the cold that should have been there wasn’t there at all, instead it was hot. Too hot. Like he was in an oven.

He continued his struggles until something strong found his arms, forcing enough pressure on them to break his bones. In fear, he stopped moving, but his cries became louder. He felt a cold hand creeping up the nape of his neck, ever so slowly, and his screams stopped as those fingers splayed over his bare throat. Then they squeezed. Hard. And he couldn’t breath. Couldn’t get air to his lungs. The hand held it’s grip for so long that Dipper felt like he was going to pass out at any moment.

“The more you scream, the less air you’ll get,” someone breathed into his ear, and the pressure was removed from his neck. Dipper breathed in hard through his nose, and he couldn’t help the tremors that wracked his body. “And, if you’re a good boy, I’ll remove some of these,” the person tugged lightly at the blindfold, then his gag. Dipper felt tears rolling down his face as he nodded feverishly, only to stop when the pressure against his neck returned.

“You’re too much trouble for what it’s worth,” the person said bluntly before letting go yet again. “But if you behave…”

The gag was taken out of his mouth, and Dipper let out a shuddering breath, coughing. He heard someone walking away, and he felt like his world was spinning. Why was it so goddamn hot? Every inch of his body felt like it was sweating, and he felt like he was drowning in all of it. He must be close to some sort of fire, but what could cause such immense heat like this? If only he could see...

"Speak," the person commanded. "Tell me what's on your mind. What you're thinking right now."

And then it clicked for Dipper.

"T-Tad?" he choked at the name, his whole being hoping that it wasn't said man. Dipper heard a faint chuckle, and then there was some rustling of clothing. As if he was getting closer. Dipper felt something bump his knees in his blindness, and his internal panic grew worse as strange, rough hands traveled up his bound arms. They weren't gentle, not like Bill was when he handled Dipper. No, these hands were sharp, painful, like the fingers were tipped with claws. Those claws drug over his bare skin, was his shirt gone? When had it gone missing? He hadn't even realized- The moving hands stopped at the base of Dipper's neck.

"Yes Dipper?" Tad asked, and Dipper could image the smile splayed on the man's lips. Dipper let out a cry when those claws began to slice his skin, and he could feel the little trails of blood sliding down his chest, mixing with his sweat. Through his blindfold, Dipper grimaced. Little did he know, he would be thankful for that blindfold then, impairing his vision at that moment.

A man stood over Dipper, and it was in fact Tad Strange, but it definitely did not look like him. He looked paler, hollower, as if he had been starved, and his hair was wild unlike its usual combed back style. And his eyes. His eyes were dark, dangerous even, and his pupils were blown so wide that the white's of his eyes were almost nonexistent. His clothes were rumpled and askew, and possibly damp from his own sweat. He looked about the room. His bedroom.

Their room. Or what used to be.

Tad closed his eyes for a moment's breath, thinking back to the very first time Bill had walked into the room late one night. Tad was wide awake, laying in bed. He never slept. He didn't need to he found, his newly obtained vessel seemingly just fine after weeks of no sleep. Tad had heard the door creaking open, and he sat up to see none other than little Bill, his little Bill, wrapped in bed sheets and shivering cold. Tad got up from the bed and walked calmly over to the boy, asking what was wrong. "I had a nightmare," Bill muttered into his sheets, refusing to look up at Tad, who was now kneeling in front of him. "What about?" Tad asked him gently, so much so that it even surprised himself, but he knew that Bill wouldn't notice the brief shock that coursed through him. Bill proceeded to tell him everything that had happened, a twisted tale of monsters and demons that nearly brought the boy to tears. "I wanted to go mom and dad but..." Bill choked through a sob, and Tad simply nodded. Tad understood the strange relationship Bill had with his parents, or lack there of. Without any warning, Tad scooped up the little boy in his arms, carrying him to the bed. Tad laid his small charge on the sheets, and pulled the covers up to the boy's chin. After tucking Bill in, Tad stood to go sit in one of the chairs, and a tiny arm shot out from beneath the covers, a chubby little hand grabbing onto one of Tad's fingers. Tad, surprised, looked down at the boy, who simple told him, "Don't leave." And Tad didn't. He stayed like that all night, observing Bill sleep, watching over him, merely thinking. It was that night when Tad decided to forever look after this boy when his own parents failed already to do so.

A broken voice woke Tad from his reverie.

"W-why?" Dipper managed, and Tad could see the shivers wracking through his body. He found that his claws were now covered in Dipper's blood, and he watched as the trails of it now slowly fell from the gashes. What a pretty sight he thought absentmindedly, running his palm over the cuts, earning more shivers from Dipper. He brought his palm back to him, looking at the crimson smears. That was when Dipper continued to speak, his voice grating to Tad's ears. "Why are you doing this? Let me go, p-please let me go-"

Tad growled, and his hand found it's way around Dipper's throat yet again, squeezing so hard that Dipper began to choke violently. "Maybe we should gag you up again, hm?" Tad suggested darkly, his eyes narrowing as he watched Dipper's jaw go slack, his fingers feeling the man's desperate attempts to get air to his lungs. "Might be better that way, so I don't have to hear your mouth run." Tad let go of Dipper's throat, hearing the man wheezing as he grabbed for air. Suddenly, an idea struck Tad.

"Let's play a game Dipper," Tad spoke, the cheeriness in his voice out of place. "I'll let you ask any questions you want to, and, if I like them, I'll answer them."

"And what if you don't like the question?" Dipper asked wearily.

Tad tapped his fingertips on his cheek, even though Dipper couldn't see it. "If I don't like the question...you'll receive a punishment in turn."

Dipper flinched. "W-what kind of punishment?"

Instead of answering, Tad choked him with both of his hands this time, however brief. Dipper struggled desperately, and the fear was still there when Tad released him this time. He couldn't see the smirk Tad adopted, couldn't see the blood that covered the both of them. The silence hung in the air, and Dipper finally noticed an odd sound through the rapid beating of his heart. The sound of something crackling.

"Ask away, Dipper." Tad prodded.

"Where are we?" Dipper asked almost immediately before cringing, waiting.

"We," Tad supplied, "are in my bedroom."

Dipper slowly nodded, regretting it right after though when his head swam. "Can you...please take off this blindfold? I want to see..." The silence that followed scared Dipper, but then suddenly he could feel the knot at the back of his head being untied. The blindfold fell into his lap. Dipper opened his eyes, wide, and screamed.

He was about five feet away from a roaring fire. Dipper rocked his chair back, trying to get away from the fire, but he bumped into Tad, who merely growled as he held the chair down from behind. "You act like it isn't contained," Tad chastised, and it took Dipper a moment to realize that the room wasn't in fact on fire. He was seated in front of an enormous fireplace, at least six feet high and six feet wide. The fire inside of it roared at Dipper, and it was so close to him that it could simply lick him once and Dipper would be burned alive.

"Move me away, move me away from it, please Tad, move me," Dipper pleaded under his breath. There was a chuckle from behind him, and soon his chair was moving backwards, back into the darkness of the room. The firelight illuminated the entire room to a point, and Dipper's chair was dragged right to that edge. Then, Tad stepped into Dipper's view, and the bound man gasped at the sight. Tad looked insane.

"Shall we continue our little game?" Tad questioned, leaning down to be eye to eye with Dipper.

Dipper hesitated, his mind racing to come up with a question that wouldn't get him punished, or worse, killed.

"I..."

Tad quirked an eyebrow. Dipper swallowed hard, and continued.

"Why...me?"

Tad stared into Dipper eyes, gauging the question in his mind. "Why...you?" he repeated, tilting his head to the side. The small change in posture unnerved Dipper. It made Tad look even less human. Dipper nodded slowly. Tad smiled again.

"You were initially our leverage."

Dipper's heart almost stopped. Our leverage?

Tad stood as he spoke, turning his back to Dipper to gaze into the fireplace. "We needed more money for Bill's new machine. He was so sure he was going to strike gold this time, but at the time we had run out. Then we heard about your great uncle's business."

Dipper's blood ran cold at the mention of Grunkle Stan, but he willed his ears to continue listening despite the bad feelings creeping up on him.

"All we needed was for him to sign that bloody check, and we would be over and done with it all. But he was resilient, and continuously turned Bill down. So...we came up with a new plan." Tad turned back to look at Dipper, to look at his coming expression. "We would use you to get to your great uncle. Bill would seduce you into coming here, and we would hold you ransom until Stan would give in."

Dipper's breathing slowed. Use him... they were using him...Bill was using him...the whole time...

"But of course, all plans have their little snags."

Dipper shot his head up, his eyes boring into Tad's wild ones. "Snags?"

Tad feigned a loud, obnoxious sigh. "You see, Bill actually began falling for you. It was obvious to me, but to him, not so much. Through his act he began to actually feel something he probably hasn't ever felt in his life. And then, Stan somehow found out about Bill and I, and he in the end did give us the check, but we couldn't have him knowing our little secret now could we?" Tad lowered himself, his face mere inches away from Dipper's, and with a mischievous grin said, "Someone had to take care of that little mess. Bill never liked doing the dirty work."

Understanding came in a slow wave for Dipper, but when it hit him he screamed as if he were drowning.

"YOU. YOU KILLED HIM DIDN'T YOU? YOU KILLED STAN!" Dipper cried in his outburst. In one quick movement, Tad had his hand gripping Dipper's throat again, shutting him up.

"I did," Tad snarled. "I watched his face become unrecognizable as it connected with that sink. I watched him crumble to the floor like a damn drunkard. I watched his blood delude in that spilling water. And it was a wonderful sight _indeed_." The stressing of that last word was punctuated as Tad squeezed Dipper's throat tighter, watching the man thrash against him. Just when Dipper thought he was going to slip into unconsciousness, he found air again as Tad let go. He coughed violently, glaring up at the man as best as he could. "Next question," Tad said flatly.

Dipper lolled his head back just a little, staring straight up to the ceiling. With every...punishment...he grew more and more dizzy, more in pain. His head began to hurt and there wasn't anything he could really do about it in this situation. Not with Tad here, acting like this. Dipper hated feeling like this. Helpless. Alone. Fearful. "W-why are you doing this to me?" he coughed, not bothering to look Tad head on, favoring the little white spots that were swimming in his line of vision.

"Truth be told, the tea was supposed to make it look like an accident. How could we have possibly known that you would be allergic to whatever is in the tea?" Tad sighed again. "But of course, there was yet again another snag. Your body somehow didn't react to the tea like everyone else's, and it took a much longer time for it to actually start taking affect. Plus, Bill's feelings didn't help in the matter either when he tried to wain you away from drinking anymore of the substance." There was a pause, and Tad glared at Dipper this time. "I decided to take matters into my own hands when I found out you were snooping around in places you shouldn't have been."

"Where's Bill?" Dipper asked slowly. Surely the man didn't know what was going on but....he also wasn't there again when Dipper had woken up.

"Worried about my precious son, are you?" Tad laughed, and Dipper cringed at the wording. "He's quite alright, he went out hours ago on a little errand for me." Dipper's eyebrows scrunched together. That didn't help him at all. He was hoping Tad's answer would give him some insight as to where Bill would disappear in the night. But Dipper had a feeling that he might get choked again if he directly asked that question, so instead he moved onto another one.

"Does Bill know...that I'm here?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't want him to worry about his little pet now would I?"

Pet? He wasn't a pet...was he? Dipper looked down at the floor, missing the way Tad stared at his bloody chest. Just what was he to him? A lover? or a pet? Just a plaything? It hurt, it hurt too deep than Dipper would care to admit. If only he was here. Here to stop the pain, the fear, the beast that was standing in front of him...Another question came to Dipper's mind, and he asked it as soon as he thought of it.

"What are you Tad?"

The silence was almost deafening then. Dipper could barely hear the crackling of the fire over it. Tad was just...looking at him with this blank gaze. Dipper watched the way his shoulder rose and fell, the movement was oddly staggered.

"Now that is a question I dislike. _Greatly_."

Before Dipper could react, Tad lunged at him, his hands going to his throat. The force behind the sudden movement was enough to knock Dipper and the chair backwards, and the two of them went crashing to the floor. With the last of his breath, Dipper screamed out as loud as he could as he fell. Dipper's head connected with the hard floor, and Tad fell into a sitting position over Dipper's torso, keeping him in place between his knees as he proceeded to choke the life out of him. Dipper's screams stopped short then, and he did whatever he could to knock the man off of him, but Tad was too strong, and Dipper was feeling so weak, so dizzy. Everything felt so numb, but he realized that he didn't mind that numbness at all. It was so inviting, a wonderful means of escape from this horror he was being subjected to. The moment Dipper welcomed it completely, his world went dark. And cold. What happened next came in flashes for Dipper.

A loud bang.

Screaming.

The sound of fighting, struggling.

"...Dipper..."

The feeling of warm hands cupping his cheeks, wiping away his stray tears and sweat.

"...wake up..."

The freeing of his bounded limbs.

Sobbing.

"Dipper...wake up...please..."

It took every ounce of his being to crack open his eyes. Bright lights flooded his vision, and he couldn't see anything, and for a moment he truly believed he was dead. Then, different shapes began to form, melding together into a face, a worried one. He blinked several times, and his voice came out in a broken whisper.

"Mabel?"

Mabel was leaning over him, cradling him in her shaking arms. She looked so disheveled, Dipper couldn't remember a time where he had seen her like this. Relief washed over her features as she called out to someone, "He's awake! He's awake!" Another person came into Dipper's view, and for the briefest of moments he thought it was Grunkle Stan.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper whispered. "N-no...you died...am I dead...?" His head hurt so much, it was unbearable.

"You're not dead, Dipper," Mabel shooshed him softly.

"But Grunkle Stan's dead...I know he is...I saw him...and Tad told me..." A broken sob wracked through his body. "Tad told me he killed him..."

The people around him froze. Mabel looked up at the impostor, and the two of them exchanged words in hushed tones. Whatever Mabel was saying though...it sounded like hurt, or guilt, and Dipper could hear the pain that was laced in her words. The impostor leaned down next to Dipper. "Dipper, it's Ford," he said to him. It clicked in Dipper's head. Ford. Ford was alive. And Stan was...

"Oh my god..." Dipper sobbed.

"There is no god in this place," Ford huffed irritably. "Mabel, we need to get him out of here before Tad wakes up."

Mabel nodded, and carefully she helped Dipper to his feet. Her brother's body was heavy, but she managed to wrap her arm around his waist and keep him steady. Ford worked his way to Dipper's other side and helped Mabel support him, and the trio slowly made their way out of the room. They stumbled together in silence, Dipper too weak to speak really, but his mind was racing with questions. Mabel was worried about Dipper's condition, the scratches and blood smeared on his chest, the blotting of purple and blue around his neck eerily in the shape of hand prints, the paleness of his face. When Ford had burst open that door, and when Mabel saw Tad on top of Dipper, strangling him, she honestly believed that Dipper was dead and gone. Her hands trembled as she screamed out for her brother, running alongside Ford, who tackled Tad to the ground. Mabel untied Dipper's restraints, all the while calling out to him, trying to get him to respond to anything she said. And nothing worked for the longest time, and she was subjected to the horrific sounds of her great uncle and Strange fighting. Ford had managed to knock Tad out thanks to the brass knuckles he had on him, but both Ford and Mabel somehow knew that Tad wouldn't be out for long. Which was what Ford was worried about as he and Mabel led Dipper down one of the flights of stairs. Just how long would Tad stay down? For all they knew, he was already up, already running to them. And where the hell was Bill? Ford swore to himself if Bill was also in on this-

"How did you guys find me?" Dipper asked finally, raising his head a little to look between Mabel and Ford.

"We arrived in town a couple days ago to check in on you," Mabel explained, tightening her grip on Dipper as she spoke, as if he was going to slip through her fingers. "We ended up leaving several days after sending you my letter."

"We arrived here not too long ago," Ford supplied. "The door was wide open when we got here and no one seemed to be around. That was until we heard you screaming."

Dipper nodded carefully, putting all of his focus on making it down the last couple of steps without toppling over. It was incredibly hard to do, his head was still swimming and his legs were still numb. When they reached the last step, their prize was in so close in reach. Those front doors loomed over them, taunting them, telling them to run, to hurry, because the monster was alive and running and hungry. The trio only managed to make it a couple feet when those doors flew open, and standing in their place was none other than Bill Cipher. Behind him, the world looked dark, and the dimly lit area cast ugly shadows over him.

"BILL!" two very different voices screamed at once.

One voice was Mabel's, who looked towards Bill for help, for her brother who was likely on the brink of death.

The other voice was Tad's, who stood at the top of one of the staircases, looking greatly roughed up and insane.

Bill was horrified at what he saw. His gaze had found Pinetree's and their eyes locked, but Bill saw that the light that was once behind those warm brown eyes had been beaten out and crushed. Dipper's chest was...absolutely mangled. There were long gashes in his skin that looked like they all cut several inches deep, and dots of blood lined those scratches and blood was smeared everywhere imaginable. And when Bill's eyes found Dipper's neck, his own breathing stopped, taking in the deep bruises that were the remains of the torture Dipper endured. It was so painful to see, and Bill wanted nothing more than to run to his love's side, to heal those wounds, to kiss him and hold him and just be with him. He regretted leaving so late into the night, as he always did, but especially now, seeing the aftermath of what has happened in his absence.

The two voices spoke in unison again.

"BILL YOU HAVE TO HELP US!"          "BILL MAKE SURE THEY DON'T LEAVE THIS HOUSE!"

"CAN'T YOU SEE DIPPER IS DYING?"           "CAN'T YOU SEE THEY ARE TRYING TO ESCAPE?"

Bill was conflicted, looking between the love of his life and his only father figure. The long years of not wanting to disappoint Tad started to creep back up on him, but another feeling was also there, one he couldn't quite place. Bill watched as Tad ran down the stairs, and he too ran to the trio. But Tad made it first, grabbing Mabel by the arm and throwing her to the ground with inhuman like strength. Her cry of pain mixed with Dipper's as he too crumbled to the ground beside Ford, who knelt along with him. Tad grabbed Ford by the collar, hauling him up from the ground and suspending him into the air. Tad's face contorted as he snarled, "You should always finish what you start instead of running away, don't you think old man?" Dipper looked on helplessly from the ground, breathing hard as he tried to scoot over to his sister discretely. Tad looked down sharply, and in one quick movement stomped his foot down onto Dipper's chest, hard enough to break his ribs. Dipper screamed again, and Bill stopped dead in his tracks, a mere foot or so away.

"You have a knife on you don't you?" Tad spoke to Bill this time, giving him a side glance.

Bill nodded slow, unable to take his eyes off his Pinetree.

Tad smirked, then threw Ford in his direction. Ford stumbled to a stop in front of Bill. and Bill reached out to the man to hold him steady. Instead, Ford shoved Bill off and tried to get to Dipper, only to get held back when Bill grabbed him by the arm hard. "If you value your little pet so much," Tad sneered, applying more pressure to Dipper's chest, "then finish the old man off."

Bill's blood ran cold. "You mean...kill him?"

"What else could I possibly mean? Yes, kill him! Get rid of him!"

Bill looked between Dipper, crushed and defeated and weak, and Mabel, wide eyed and worried and afraid. As Ford struggled against him, Bill suddenly had an idea. A bad one, and I might not actually work out in his favor, but an idea nonetheless. Bill dragged Ford towards the open front doors, using his free hand to quickly grab the knife that was concealed in his pants pocket. He swiveled the two of them around, so that Bill's back was to Tad and Ford was facing Bill now.

"You have knowledge of medical practices, don't you?" Bill rushed out in a whisper, bringing the knife up to Ford's chest. Ford's brows knitted together in confused, but Bill pressed on. "Show me where to cut."

Understanding donned on Ford, and, with much concealment as he could, grabbed Bill's hand and maneuvered the knife just so. Ford knew this placement wouldn't kill him, but it'll sure hurt like hell.

"There was a way to get to the basement from behind the mansion," Bill explained quickly. "Once I close these doors, make your way over there as fast as you can. Don't worry about Mabel and Dipper."

Ford nodded, and right before Bill stabbed him, Dipper's voice rang out loud and raspy. "If you kill him...I will never forgive you."

"And you'll rot in hell!" Mabel added for extra measure.

Bill only briefly halted, and then whispered to Ford, "Good thing I'm not killing you, then. And that I'm going to hell anyway." Ford's mouth twitched into a smile, only to fall right down again as Bill shoved the knife into him, driving him backwards until they were both passed the doors. The twins yelling made Bill deaf as he pulled out the knife, watching Ford fall to the ground. When Ford looked back up at Bill, Bill gave him a wink before closing the doors shut. When Bill turned around, he was greeted with the sights of both Mabel and Dipper glaring at him, and to Tad's horrible, horrible smile.


	16. The Death of a Bachelor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write for some reason, and then it finally struck me. Guys. GUYS. 
> 
> THIS IS THE SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER.
> 
> Like good lordy! I can't believe it honestly. It's really insane to think about how far I've come from just this little idea for a story into this huge monstrosity. Damn it's just really crazy. 
> 
> Sorry if anything seems weird with this chapter, I'm posting it really late and there's probably a lot of errors but I'm too tired to look through it. >.>
> 
> Enjoy reading, everyone <3
> 
> -V
> 
> P.S.- the title of this chapter comes from Panic! at the Disco's new song, "The Death of a Bachelor", it's really good and you should go listen to it!

Ford stumbled to his feet, clutching his recent stabwound. He looked down at himself, watching his blood seep more into his shirt and gushing a little onto his hand. “Fucking Cipher,” he grumbled to himself. “I swear if you screw this up…” He continued to mumble to himself as he began descending the front steps and out into the night. It wasn’t as dark as he thought it was, the moon giving a faint light to the area around him. On any other night, it probably would have been peaceful really. And possibly at any other place other than this forsaken mansion as well. Behind him, Ford could hear someone scream. He recognized the voice to be Mabel’s, and on reflexive clutched his wound even harder. He winced at the pain, but it reminded him of his current objective. Getting to the basement. It took every fiber of his being not to turn around.

His trek was slow and tedious, him being fearful of losing too much blood if his pace was quickened at all. Ford listened to the nightlife around him, and through his shallow breathing he could hear the trees dancing in the wind, the insects speaking in their hushed tones. He felt the wind pick up its running pace, speeding right past his face and chilling him to the bone. Ford shivered, willing his legs to continue on.

Time carried on, and eventually Ford found himself at the back of the mansion. In the distance was the rumble of thunder, and almost immediately a flash of lightning struck across the sky, illuminating the grounds briefly. Ford stopped, his jaw dropping at what he briefly saw. It was a machine or some sort, towering high into the air. It looked to be made up of a concoction of gears and pipes and chainbelts, and it stretched for at least several yards. At the end of it was a chair that was built into the machine, and various levers presented themselves to the nonexistent operator. At the other end however, the machine looked broken. A large drill sat in the grass beside it, and different lengths of chains were wrapped around the machines end, as if keeping parts together.

The light disappeared as quickly as it came, and the machine fell back into the darkness. Ford continued to stare at it though. What on earth is this thing? What did it do? And when was it built? And by who? Bill and Tad? More questions prodded his mind, but Ford shook them all off. He needed to focus. Focus. He turned, eyes scanning the mansion. It was another several moments until his eyes landed on a pair of doors that led under the mansion. His vision zeroed in on it, and with his remaining energy made his way slowly to the doors.

It would only be a matter of time until he saw his niece and nephew again he told himself. Bill Cipher had better do them right.

 

 

**V^**

 

 

Mabel continued to scream and fight as Tad dragged her along, having a bruising grip on her wrists. Each each thrash, his grip got tighter and tighter, but that didn’t deter Mabel in the slightest. She had made several attempts at kicking Tad’s shins, who in turn stomped on one of her feet. A sick crack had followed, and Mabel was pretty sure he actually broke her foot. She spat curses at him as she limped along, but Tad refused to speak to her, or acknowledge the insults she threw.

Following behind them was Bill and Dipper. Bill had Dipper in his arms, carrying him bridal style with Dipper’s head resting on Bill’s shoulder. Bill could feel how cold Dipper was, and with his eyes closed it looked like his Pinetree was dead, but Bill knew better. Bill’s eye looked over the now dried wounds on Dipper’s chest, cringing internally. Since he first spotted Dipper like this, Bill could feel the anger building inside his chest. His eyes narrowed when they found the back of Tad’s head. He should have known better than to go on that stupid errand for Tad. He should have known Tad would pull something like this. And yet he was still somehow oblivious to it all because he didn’t want to _disappoint_ Tad, and look where it got him. Bill tightened his grip on Dipper. It was too tight though, and Dipper let out a low moan of pain.  “I’m sorry,” Bill whispered to him, loosening his grip some. He went to kiss Dipper’s forehead, but the man shoved himself away from Bill.

“D-don’t you dare kiss me,” Dipper grounded out quietly.

“I...I’m sorry,” Bill apologized again. “Once we get to the attic, I’ll tend to your wounds, okay?”

“I’d rather...get clawed a million times over...than let you care for me again.”

Bill said nothing to that, instead leaving his Pinetree be and choosing to stare ahead of him. His heart hurt, but he knew that it was wrong to feel that way. It was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong because Bill had brought this on himself, on Dipper, Mabel, Ford and Stan. The guilt was overwhelming, and Bill felt like he was drowning in it. He wondered for a moment, if this was what his petty existence would amount to. Inevitable heartache. Unimaginable pain. Vicious deaths.

In a sad way it seemed fitting. Bill knew his life was doomed the moment he stumbled upon that ritual so many years ago, doomed by the man he clung to for so long, the man who welcomed him with open arms, who undoubtedly corrupted him. It was all brought about by the demon who called himself Tad Strange, a demon who was his adopted father, his mentor and friend. It hurt to think what had become of the two of them.

Tad, insane, twisted, reckless, self centered, controlling.

Bill, lost, lonely, conflicted, thoughtless, a follower.

They were both blind, just in their own ways. Tad was blinded by his greed while Bill was blinded in his attempts to be the perfect son. And it only made him angrier. Bill stared at the back of Tad’s head, thinking, plotting, trying to figure out how to get the Pines to the basement without getting even more hurt. Another scream from Mabel startled both Bill and Dipper out of their thoughts though. It wasn’t like her previous yelling, this scream was more panicked, shrill.

Dipper looked up to see that Tad had stopped walking, and Mabel was struggling to get behind the man. They both were looking down the hallway on the left, and when Dipper turned to look, his blood ran cold.

Down at the end of the hallway was that tall, lanky monster Dipper swore roamed the hallways at night. It was standing right in front of a window, and a sudden flash of lightning illuminated the horrible creature. Mabel screamed again, trying to put as much distance between her and the monster, but Tad held fast, not allowing her to run away. Dipper didn’t mind this time when Bill hugged him a little closer, a little tighter.

“Ah! If it isn’t my dear friend Lazarus!” Tad called out to the monster cheerfully. The thing responded with a strange, gurgle noise, and the hair on the back of Dipper’s neck stood up. Tad knew this thing? It shouldn’t really come as a surprise to him though, the golden lady in the basement said she knew Tad but…

The thing (Dipper _refused_ to call it Lazarus ) took a shaky step forward. Bill took a step back, but Tad remained where he was. It gurgled again, and Tad’s obnoxious laugh rang out into the hallway.

“These two aren’t food Lazarus !” he chided lightly, and Mabel stopped her thrashing, frozen in horror at the mere thought. “But,” Tad continued, “Should they escape, they’re yours for the taking.”

Bill’s eye widened at that, and he could feel Dipper’s breathing quicken. The thing suddenly let out an ungodly noise and darted out from view into another hallway. They all could hear the sound of it running away, that gurgled voice fading further and further into the mansion. Tad glanced at Mabel, then Dipper, and a sick smirk formed from his lips. The man didn’t say anything else as he continued to walk, dragging a silent Mabel with him. Dipper gave his sister a worried glance, but her eyes didn’t reach his. Her face was blank, which only troubled Dipper more.

Tad led them all down different hallways, all the while the sound of running feet echoing throughout distant halls. Within just a few short minutes, the four of them stood outside the elevator. Tad let go of one of Mabel’s wrists, forcing the gates to open, and then shoved Mabel inside the elevator. He held the gates open for Bill and Dipper, who silently proceeded after Mabel, and Tad then too walked in, shutting the gates closed. He pushed the lever upwards and the old elevator sprung to life, carrying its cargo up multiple floors. Dipper could hear the creaks and groans of the machine, and for the first time hoped that it didn’t malfunction, at least not with his sister inside. The silent journey came to an end when the elevator stopped abruptly on the final floor.

The attic.  

The moment Tad opened the elevator gates, Dipper was hit with an overwhelming stench of decay. The attic was dark and damp, the walls were falling apart and floorboards were either barely there, broken or missing. In the middle of the room was a massive hole in the floor and just above was another hole roughly the same size. Moonlight shone through the hole and into the room, lighting it dimly, and the wind that came through made the room chilly. The attic itself extended for at least 50 or 60 feet or so, and old furniture was littered haphazardly about. Old photo frames were draped over with dusty cloth, but there was one painting that remained unveiled. It hung on a clean space of wall that didn’t have either holes or crumbling wallpaper.

It was a family portrait. In the back stood a man and a woman, with the man’s hand placed on the woman’s shoulder and the shoulder of a child sitting in a chair in front of them. The man and woman were unrecognizable though, their faces were slashed out. The only intact piece of the portrait was actually the child, a young boy with wavy blonde hair, chubby cheeks, and bright eyes. He was smiling, and he looked happy.

Tad urged everyone out of the elevator, dragging a silent Mabel to the other side of the room. Bill followed suit, Dipper still in his arms. Dipper looked at that painting, staring directly into the young boy’s eyes, and asked, “Is that you, Bill?”

Bill stopped walking then, turning to face the picture. Dipper’s gaze turned to Bill’s face, who was staring blankly. “It is,” he confirmed lowly, and his voice sounded distant and heavy. Dipper decided not to pry any more into it. His shifted in Bill’s arms, trying to let the man know that he wanted down. Bill blinked back into the present and helped Dipper onto his feet. He went to wrap his arm around Dipper’s waist, but Dipper shrugged him off.

“I’m...fine,” Dipper reassured him. Bill of course knew that Dipper was lying to him, but what could he say? Bill opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when Tad called him to bring Dipper over. Bill huffed, gritting his teeth, and took hold of Dipper’s elbow. Dipper looked less than pleased to be touched by Bill again, and yet he didn’t struggle as said man led him over to where Tad stood.

Mabel was sitting on the hard floor, her hands and legs bound together as she leaned up against the wall. Bill helped Dipper join his sister before backing away to stand next to Tad. Tad snapped his fingers once, and Dipper could feel ropes sliding across his wrists and ankles, tying off in knots and making him immobile. Dipper would say that the silence that followed was awkward if he wasn’t so unnerved. With Tad and Bill standing over he and Mabel, it felt like some sort of interrogation. Bill sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“I don’t know why we are keeping them here, Tad,” he muttered honestly.

Tad let out a sharp laugh. “I honestly thought you would be a lot smarter than that, Bill.”

Dipper saw Bill visibly freeze as Tad continued to talk. “Don’t you see the consequences that will occur if we just let them leave? The probability of them going to the authorities and ratting us out? They know too much Bill, and we can’t have the risk of getting found out again.”

The three of them watched Tad pace around the room, his hand over his mouth, his eyes narrowed in on the floor boards he stepped over. It was Mabel who decided to speak then about something that had been bothering her for a while now.

“Since we are obviously going to die here,” she knew that wasn’t the case at all, ignoring Dipper and Bill’s pointed glares, “Would you do me the honor, Tad, of answering one question?”

Tad halted, his head turning slowly towards Mabel. Mabel hoped he didn’t pick up on her sucking up to him, and she couldn’t tell if it went by completely unnoticed or if he just accepted it. “Why of course, what is it that you wish to know?”

Mabel gulped. She didn’t know if she wanted to really know the answer, but it was now or never.

“Just...what exactly are you?”

The air grew heavy when the question left her lips. Dipper had flashbacks to his time alone with Tad, when he asked the same question and nearly died. His breathing picked up dramatically, and he began to wheeze desperately, trying to calm down and get air to his possibly damaged lungs. Bill zeroed in on Dipper, and in an instant was kneeling before him, cradling Dipper’s head in his hands.

“Pinetree? Pinetree! You need to breath!” Bill urged desperately. The last thing Dipper needed was to go through a panic attack. “Breath, Pinetree. Breath for me. Just breath.”

Bill reacted faster than Mabel had, and she watched on helplessly and worriedly. She chanced a look at Tad, and her hatred for the man grew as she caught that bemused grin displayed on his face. Bill continued to help Dipper through his panic as Tad began to speak again.

“That is quite the loaded question, and deserves a bit of backstory. Luckily for you, you aren’t going anywhere.” Tad ignored Mabel’s glare, favoring back to his pacing. “To put simply, I am not human, but I assume you already discerned that on your own. Your kind has a vaguely loose term for my presence, a demon, but I’m only demonic in nature. Humans wouldn’t be able to wrap their fragile minds about my true being, so it is easier to just assume that I am, in fact, a demon. I was brought into this particular realm by a foolish pair, who just so happened to be Bill’s parents. They were obsessed with the occult, and decided to do a summoning ritual.”

Tad looked at Bill. Despite his hard exterior, Tad knew the man was uncomfortable with this topic. He always had been. And Tad knew Bill always thought it was his fault it all happened. Tad just never bothered with telling Bill otherwise, mostly because he didn’t think he would be sticking around for as long as he did. And then Tad started to feel for the young boy, and it all went to hell.

“The ritual itself was simple and pathetic at most, but I decided to come anyway. Right as I was about to make my entrance though, their 8 year old son stumbled upon their ritual. Bill’s father was outraged by the interruption, and took a knife and slashed at Bill.”

Dipper had calmed down mostly now, breathing hard through his nose as a tense Bill looked him in the eyes. Dipper’s gaze fell to the scar on Bill’s face, and without thinking raised a shaky hand to Bill’s face. “So your father...did this to you?” Dipper whispered softly to Bill only, thumbing over the scar. Bill leaned into the gentle touch, and Dipper could actually see how ashamed Bill was.

Their brief exchange went unnoticed by Tad as he continued his story. “Bill’s blood spilled out onto their offering, altering the summoning and morphing it into a binding. How could I say possibly say no to that?” Tad laughed darkly.

“A binding…” Mabel repeated slowly.

“My mistake accidentally bonded Tad to me,” Bill supplied for her. “Think of it as like a guardian of sorts. He would be tasked with watching over me and in turn I would gain his protection, but at the time of my death...Tad gets my soul.”

Mabel’s eyes widened at that. “But wait, what if Tad dies? What do you get?”

Another laugh erupted from Tad. “I can’t die. That’s the beauty of the situation. I remain immortal as long as the host is still alive.”

Bill was about to object, but stopped short. The gears began to turn in his head, and he briefly looked down at himself. He still had the knife on him from earlier...if he could just… His attention turned to Tad. He was still walking in straight lines back and forth. Bill looked back at Dipper.  As quickly and discreetly as he could manage, Bill pulled out the knife from his jacket, keeping the blade in his hand.

‘Run when you can,’ he mouthed to Dipper, looking momentarily confused until he saw the knife in Bill’s hand. He watched as Bill leaned in closer, quietly working the blade in between the ropes on Dipper’s wrists. In one slice, the ropes fell to the floor, and Dipper placed his hands just so so that it still looked his he was bounded. Bill rose from his crouch, moving slowly over to the pacing Tad.

“What are we going to do with them now?” he asked nonchalantly, hiding the blade behind his back. Tad stopped pacing again, and gave Bill a huge grin. “I’m glad you’ve come through, Bill. I had several possibilities, but my favorite is tearing them limb from limb and giving my friends a decent meal.”

Bill nodded to each possibility that Tad continued to list out, and from the corner of his eye saw Dipper inching closer and closer to Mabel. Tad turned his back to Bill for just a split second, and Bill saw his opportunity.

Bill raised the knife into the air, and in one fell swoop, buried the blade deep into Tad’s shoulder blade and twisted. The scream that erupted from Tad was inhuman and shrill, and he whipped around trying to get the blade out, but Bill held fast, trying to bury it even further. Dipper scrambled, first helping untie his sister’s hands, freeing her, then going about the ropes on his ankles. Mabel finished untying herself before Dipper, and she stood up quickly, nearing fall over, and got Dipper to his feet. The two could hear Bill yelling for them to run to the basement, and as fast as their legs could carry them, bolted across the attic to the elevator. Through the sounds of his blood pumping hard, Dipper could hear the scuffle between Tad and Bill behind him, and when he and Mabel reached the elevator he looked back, and the world stopped.  

Tad had gotten the upper hand, blade in one hand and in the other he held Bill’s throat, holding the man suspended in the air. Bill was struggling to get free from Tad, his legs flailing and his hands scratching at Tad’s hand, but the man kept walking forward, till his feet met the edge of the hole in the floor. Tad looked furious, horrifying. His eyes were completely black now, and Dipper thought he could see veins popping underneath Tad’s skin.  “LOOK WHERE YOUR BRAVERY WILL GET YOU NOW,” Tad yelled at Bill. “WHAT A FITTING FATE TO COME TO A DISLOYAL SON.”

And then, Tad let go of Bill.

And Bill’s body was flung through the hole, falling through the floors below.

And Dipper realized he was screaming as Mabel shoved him into the elevator.

Mabel fumbled with the gates, finally getting them to shut close. The loud clang of the gates hit Tad’s ears, and his head shot up, his black eyes finding the twins. He screamed in outrage, running to the elevator. Mabel flipped the lever, and the elevator jolted alive, descending into the darkness below just in time. They both looked up and saw Tad staring down into the elevator shaft.

Then, he disappeared from view, but from above they could hear him screaming,

 “TIME TO HUNT, LAZARUS!”

The twins heard something animalistic as they passed one of the floors, and they backed themselves into the corner of the elevator. The ride was agonizingly slow, but their hearts were racing.

One more floor passed and there was no sign of the monster.

As the elevator came to the next floor, something crashed heavily into the gates. They screamed as lanky arms and clawed hands reached in the elevator, swiping at them, trying to attack. The twins collapsed onto the floor, kicking at the hands as hard as they could. They were completely defenseless, and the elevator gates threatened to give way as the beast snarled and snapped at it’s prey. The elevator continued to go down though, starting to slip past the current floor and onto the next one. There was a sickening crack and a pained howl. The thrashing arms grew more frantic, but with each inch the elevator moved, more cracking sounds ensued, followed by the creatures pained noises. The elevator stuttered briefly, and there were two more solid cracks, and the arms collapsed to the floor, having been ripped from the creature’s own body.

Mabel and Dipper continued to scream as the limbs twitched, but the twitching only lasted mere seconds until they went limp. They stared at the disgusting arms, breathing heavily, and from above Lazarus continued to howl into the night. The elevator began to pass one more floor, and he dared a look out into the hallway. There was another flash of lightning, and the hallway lit up for a few seconds, and Dipper’s blood ran cold.

There stood Bill, down at the end of the hallway, clutching his arm, but the bright light that flashed gave him a white appearance. He looked like a ghost. Unmoving, only watching as the elevator passed down onto the basement. Dipper wanted to call out to him, but his voice was lost and the hallway descended back into darkness once more, and Bill was gone.

Mabel nudged the limbs away into the opposite corner, and the twins held onto each other for the rest of the ride down. “What are we going to do, Dipper?” Mabel asked in a broken whisper. “Tad’s still alive and Ford’s gone and Bill’s…” she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“We just- we just need to come up with a plan,” Dipper said, trying to reassure his sister, and himself, but he knew he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. He kept replaying Bill’s death in his head, watching the man he love fall over and over again into the abyss below. Mabel gently wiped away one of his tears, when had he started crying?

The elevator finally stopped, and the twins reached their next destination. With shaky legs they stood, stepping over the limbs and unlatching the gates. The basement was warm, and oddly comforting to Dipper. “We don’t know how much time we have until he gets down here,” Dipper pointed out as they walked out of the elevator. “He’s most likely-”

Mabel shrill squeal interrupted him, shocked as he watched his sister run across the room. He followed her movements, and his eyes laid on a form on the ground.

It was Ford.

Ford was alive.

He was safe.

Bill didn’t kill him.

Dipper raced after his sister, kneeling beside her as she helped Ford up in a sitting position.

“Ford? Ford! Can you hear me?” Mabel asked in a rush, patting his face, his head, his shoulders.

Ford wobbled a little, but he came to with a smile on his lips. “Glad to see...Bill kept his end of the deal,” he said, his voice rough. There was a rattling sound, and the twins whipped around to see the elevator beginning it’s descent upwards into the mansion.

“Oh my god,” Mabel muttered, turning back to Ford. “Can you walk?”

They helped the man to his feet, but his movements were slow. “All three of us won’t be able to make it out together,” Dipper realized, looking to Mabel’s crestfallen face. “Ford can barely walk at all, Tad would catch us in no time.”

“So what do we do?” Mabel cried, holding onto Ford and keeping him upright. A plan suddenly struck Dipper, a plan he didn’t like one bit, but he had no other option he could think of.

“You two will hide out down here, and I can bait Tad away from here. That’ll give you guys enough time to get out of the mansion.”

“Dipper are you crazy?!” Mabel shrieked, hitting Dipper in the arm. “That’s suicidal! Tad will kill you!”

“Can you think of anything else?” Ford grunted, and Mabel fell silent at that.

Dipper scanned the room, eyes glossing over the bookshelves and the tables, and stopped when he saw the cylinders across the room. “You guys can hide out over there,” he pointed to the containers. The trio made their way over to the four gold containing cylinders, and Dipper made it a point to not hide them behind the one that housed the golden lady. Mabel and Ford positioned themselves so that they were out of view from the elevator.

“How did you get in here?” Dipper asked Ford, who in turn pointed far down the room.

“There’s a set of doors that lead out into the back. Be careful though Dipper, they’ve got this huge machine out there.”

Dipper nodded, and gave them both one last hug before darting back across the room. On one of the tables was a burning lantern, and Dipper grabbed it just as the elevator reached the basement yet again. Tad opened the gates and stepped out, his eyes finding Dipper. He broke out into a lecherous grin, and Dipper wasted no time as he ran to the other side of the room, going straight to the doors Ford told him about.

“I saw what you did to my poor friend,” Tad called out to Dipper’s running form, taking his time. “Lazarus isn’t too happy to be missing his precious arms. I told him that he would have the pleasure of consuming you first, Dipper!”

Dipper heard then insane man’s laugh as he burst through the doors, falling out into the cool night. He stumbled up, and ran as far as he could. More lightning flashed, and Dipper jolted to a halt as he came face to face with the infamous machine. Just in front of him was a long pipe, and Dipper picked it up, whipping around to face the mansion.

From all around him, Dipper could hear Tad’s chilling laughter. The only constant light came from Dipper’s lantern, but it only brought so much light, extending to maybe five feet in front of him. Dipper realized that he was completely out of his element.

And that he was probably going to die.

Something ran out in front of him, and Dipper tried to slash at it with the pipe, only hitting the air. And there that laugh was again.

 _“You’d think I would feel remorse in killing my own son in cold blood...”_ was what Dipper heard from the darkness. He couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from, and he spun about.

_“But...I don’t feel a single shred of guilt…”_

_“I always knew...that he was going to die...humans always do…”_

_“I just didn’t realize...that it would be caused...by my own hands…”_

 “STOP TALKING!” Dipper yelled, and he could feel tears falling down his face. “COME OUT AND SHOW YOURSELF YOU COWARD!”

There was absolute silence, and Dipper counted his heartbeats and waited for something to happen, anything-

Tad suddenly leaped out from the darkness in front of Dipper, lunging at him. Dipper screamed as he was knocked to his feet, his pipe went flying away and his lantern...his lantern fell and burst into flames on the grass. It was just enough to catch fire, and Dipper watched in horror as the fire began to spread. Tad was on top of Dipper in an instant, his hands going to Dipper’s throat. Dipper grabbed his hand’s in time through, and the two struggled to gain control as the flames swarmed quickly around them.

The machine caught fire first, the whole thing developing in flames slowly as the two fought on the ground. Dipper thrashed about, and ended up knocked Tad off of him. He scrambled to his feet, desperately looking around for the pipe while also watching Tad. Tad stood too, breathing hard.

“All of this is fruitless you know,” he taunted, taking a step toward Dipper. Dipper stepped back, and be noticed just how far the flames spread, approaching both the edge of the forest and the mansion itself. Tad bent low, picking up Dipper’s discarded pipe.

Tad swung the pipe at Dipper, and he jumped back. Tad continued to swing wildly, just barely missing Dipper. Dipper’s foot slipped though, and as he fell, Tad took another swing, some time hitting Dipper’s left arm. He cried out, pain flaring intensely as he hit the ground hard. From his position, Dipper could see the stars in the night sky peeking out from dark clouds, and he could see the light from the fire. His skin was burning up, he knew those flames were close, but his energy was draining fast. Tad came into view, grabbing Dipper by the neck and manhandling up onto his feet.

Dipper struggled, kicking wildly like Bill had done, clawing at Tad’s hands like Bill had done as Tad raised him into the air. Tad grinned wildly, “May you rest in hell, Dipper.”

And then Tad threw him in the direction of the fire.

And instead of succumbing to the flames, Dipper crashed into something.

_Someone._

Dipper could hear Tad gasp as his feet found the ground, being steadied by an unknown force.

“You-” Tad stuttered, “You’re supposed to be dead!”

Someone stepped into Dipper’s line of sight, and he immediately recognized the figure.

“Bill…?”

Bill didn’t respond though as he advanced toward Tad. Ted held the bat up high in warning, but never actually swung.

“How- how are you alive?!” he asked incredulously. “I watched you die! I know that fall should have killed you!”

No amount of justification made Bill falter though, and in moments Bill had Tad in his hands. Bill pushed Tad down onto the ground, standing above him. The light from the fire made Bill look unearthly, possessed even. There was no real hint of emotion on his face, he only had this unnatural look of calmness. It was the most terrifying Tad had ever seen from the man. Tad could compare Bill to so many things in that instant.

Murderer.

Demon.

Insane.

Psychotic.

Tormentor.

Just like Tad.

And nothing like his son. Not anymore.

Bill raised his hand to cup the back of Tad’s head, horrifyingly gentle. And when he spoke, it was chillingly soft.

“You raised a monster, but you yourself came from this monster’s blood.”

Bill pulled out his knife with his free hand, and in a quick motion, sliced his arm, catching blood on the blade.

“And from this monster’s blood, I’ll send you back to the hell you came from.”

Bill’s gentle hold turned tight, gripping the back of Tad’s hair. With no hesitation, Bill lodged the knife into Tad’s face, piercing the skin of his cheek and maneuvering the blade to go through Tad’s eye. Bill knew the tip of the blade touched Tad’s brain, and he shoved the knife further into Tad’s skull. Tad was screaming all the while, flailing manically but to no avail as Bill continued to shove the knife further and further.

Blood oozed down Bill’s hand as he let the knife go, letting it stay lodged in place, and picked up Tad by the throat. “See you in hell, fucker,” he growled, and shoved Tad once more, watching the man fall into the fire behind him. Tad still cried out, crying out to his son, but Bill only watched as the man crumpled to his knees, letting the fire take him. Bill wiped the blood on his clothes, and was brought back to his senses when he heard Pinetree yelling.

“Bill! The mansion’s on fire!”

Bill whipped around, and sure enough, the fire caught purchase on the mansion somehow. It suddenly occurred to him just how far the fire had spread, and he raced over to a worried Pinetree, embracing him briefly. Bill wrapped his arms around him, holding Dipper tight against his chest. “I’m not dead, I’m not dead, I’m not a ghost, I’ve got you Dipper, I’ve got you,” Bill whispered all of these things, these reassuring things to his Pinetree, his shaking Pinetree, who thought he was dead.

And amidst the burning flames and the chaos all around them, Bill kissed Dipper hard on the lips, knocking the wind out of both of them.

There was a final flash of lightning and roll of thunder, and the skies began to pour.

Bill pulled back from the kiss, studying Dipper’s face, making sure he was okay. “We need to go, Mabel and Form are in front,” he said, and Dipper complied without hesitation. They two fell into a sprint, with Bill in the lead, holding Dipper by the wrist on his good arm as they ran. Bill maneuvered through the fire and the rain as best as he could, dragging Dipper along carefully. There were several instances where the fire got so close it could lick their skin, but they managed to dodge it all as they found their way into the front. In the distance, Dipper could see Mabel supporting Ford, standing on the edge of the road where the land met the forest. Bill and Dipper made it over to them, heaving heavily.

The rain was pouring harder now, drenching them all to the bone, chilling them after facing nearly being burned alive. However, they didn’t mind the coldness then, rather welcoming it. Bill held Dipper in his arms, refusing to let go, not let Dipper wanted to be let go anyway.

All together, they watched the mansion burn beautifully into the raining night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.P.S.- [SPOILERS] When I was writing Bill stabbing Tad, the song "Supermassive Black Hole" came on and it was like the most badass thing that's ever happened honestly


	17. Golden Hills

_“Hello…?”_

_“Are you there?”_

_“It’s me…”_

_He spun slowly around the empty room, holding his breath, searching. It seemed like the entire room was in grayscale, and when he looked outside the broken window, the dusk was dark and solemn. The trees didn’t move, the nightlife didn’t speak, it was like time had just… stopped. He looked back to the doorway, considering moving onto the next room. Where could he be? Surely he didn’t leave… did he? Could he just leave?_

_He walked out of the room, his light steps barely breaking the silence. Was it actually possible for him to leave this place? this house? He hadn’t said so before, and surely he would have told him. But it’s been so long, so long. How long has it been? He couldn’t remember the exact time he had been away, but he knew that it had been a long time, too long. He continued to call out to him._

_“Hello…?”_

_“Are you there?”_

_“It’s me…”_

_He walked down the short hallway, not bothering to check the rooms he passed. He already knew what was in them. This room was empty… This room had a desk and a dresser… This room had a single bed… This was the bathroom… This was the cupboard… He reached the end of the hallway, reaching the top of the steps. He made his descent._

_“Hello…?”_

_“Are you there?”_   


_“It’s me…”_

_He reached the bottom of the stairs, finding himself in a partially destroyed living room, full of holes in the walls and broken floorboards. He passed each misshapen board without having to look, he’d been here so often that he didn’t need to seek out where to step next, he just took the next step. Now he was in the dining room. There was a lone long dining table with a chair at either end. He looked over to one of the chairs, remembering so fondly the nights he sat in that chair comfortably, eating meagerly without a single care because…_

_His eyes strayed to the other empty chair._

_He sighed, maybe he should just go. It was foolish of him to come back after so long. He was forgotten probably by now, his own ghost of the past…_

_There was a creak of a floorboard just above him, on the next floor, and then another, and another, liking someone was walking about. His eyebrows shot up in surprise for a moment, having been caught off guard, but his surprise soon turned into a soft smile as he trekked back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time._

_He peeked down the hallway shyly, waiting for something to happen again. One of the doors opened slowly, loudly creaking. It was the room with the single bed. Without hesitation, he made his way to the room, peering inside only once before walking inside._

_Suddenly the cold house felt warm again, felt alive, and the room around him began to morph and ripple. Even though he’s seen this before, it still took his breath away, watching in awe as the room’s grayness seeped into rich, deep colors before his very eyes. It started from below the bed, positioned center on the back wall, and slowly was dragged to the outer walls. The pale floors turned into mahogany, and the blank wallpaper turned into a passionate red. The colors leaked onto the ceiling, changing to a deep chestnut._

_And with the colors, the furniture returned as well, the bedside tables, the dressers, the mirrors, the sitting tables, the chairs, the long couch, the candleholders, the curtains, the pictures. It looked exactly like how he remembered it to be, warm, intimate, inviting…_

_home._

_“Hello…?”_

_“Are you there?”_

_“It’s me… do you remember?”_

_There was a moment of silence, and then he felt a light, tickling breeze from behind him. He swiveled around quickly, coming face to face with…_

_“Hey Abel.”_

_Abel smiled. “Hello Cyprus.”_

_The two looked at each other for a long time, not saying a word as they gazed into opposite eyes. And yet somehow, they didn’t need words. Abel took Cyprus’ hand, gently tugging the man along as Abel walked over to his bed. They only let go to go either side, Cyprus to lay on the right side and Abel to lay on the left, just like how they used to do. Once they both laid down, they scooted closer and closer, until there was hardly any space between them, and their noses almost touching. Abel raised his hand, cupping Cyprus’ face softly, stroking his thumb over his cheek. Cyprus let out a content sigh, letting his eyes slip closed._

_“I’ve missed you,” he told Abel truthfully. “It’s been so long since…”_

_“I’ve missed you too,” Abel murmured. “It wasn’t the same without you here. These walls are so bleak when you’re gone. Nothing’s warm, or lovely.”_

_Cyprus hummed when he felt Abel’s lips press to his forehead, his gentle kiss was almost unreal, unearthly._

_“I promise I won’t leave again,” Cyprus whispered when those lips left his forehead and found his own. He spoke the rest of his vow through the kiss._

_“I promise I won’t leave again,_

_and as the world outside grows dark,_

_inside your house will be_

_the only light I will ever need._

_And as the world outside grows old,_

_our love with last longer than forever,_

_always young, always beautiful, always true._

_Right here is where I want to be,_

_with you, forever and eternity.”_

_And the world outside did grow dark, and it did grow old, gloomy, sad, but inside the house, their forever and eternity continued on peacefully. In the house time was nonexistent. Reality was just an illusion. The universe a hologram. And they didn’t mind. He never aged, while he stayed in the same plane, and they made it work. They always did._

  


Dipper flipped over the last page carefully, trying not to smudge any more of the ink on the page. He had been reading aloud for quite some time he found, looking out his bedroom window briefly to see that it was already growing dark outside. Dipper turned back to face Bill, who was sitting at the foot of the bed with his legs crossed like Dipper’s. Bill was staring intently at the last page Dipper had put on the stack, and he reached out, picking it up gently. He flipped it back over to reread the entire page word for word.

“So...what do you think?” Dipper asked cautiously. He knew that Bill loved his writing, and would only ever give him worthwhile critiques if he saw fit, which was hardly ever, but Dipper was still nervous all the same. He wasn’t necessarily nervous about the writing itself, but rather the message he was trying to convey.

Bill continued to read, not responding to the question, and so Dipper looked about his bedroom. It looked just like it had been when Dipper had left so long ago. Being back in his hometown almost made everything feel like a bad dream, the mansion, the monsters, the forest, Tad. Dipper shuddered lightly. But every time he looked at Bill, Dipper remembered that it wasn’t a dream at all. That they both almost died, that Ford and Mabel were in danger, and that Stan was dead. It all was so horrible to think about, but try as he might, Dipper couldn’t push the memories away.

When they all arrived back home, for weeks Dipper would still have those horrific nightmares. The ones where he found himself running down the never ending hallways, trying to get away, trying to hide, only to be found by some new abomination and be ripped apart. But, when Dipper would wake in the middle of the night nearly in tears, instead of finding himself alone in an empty bed, Bill would be there, ready to sooth Dipper back to sleep, ready to comfort him. Dipper found that the nightmares were more tolerable now that he knew Bill would never leave in the middle of the night again.

Bill spoke softly, pulling Dipper out of his daze. “‘Right here is where I want to be, with you, forever and eternity’, huh?”

Dipper blushed. “Y-yeah. I mean, I know it’s cheesy but, it just seemed to fit.”

Bill nodded, and he set the page down on top of the others. He then carefully pushed the stack to the edge of the bed. Bill sat there for a moment, not saying a word, and without warning launched himself at Dipper.

Dipper squealed loudly as Bill fell on top of him, and the two of them fell back into the covers, messing them up even more. Bill situated himself between Dipper’s open legs, and he had his chin resting on Dipper’s chest. Dipper tilted his head so that he could see Bill better, and he chuckled at the sight of his hair all wild. Dipper raised his arm to card his hand through Bill’s hair, pushing the strands out of his face.

“What were you thinking about when you were writing the last chapter?” Bill asked innocently, his eye never leaving Dipper’s face.

Dipper hesitated to answer as he pushed back the last strand. His gaze went to Bill’s sewn up eyelid, surveying the few stitches that remained there. The wound and scarring were for the most part healed up completely, but Bill still chose to keep it all covered up with his hair. Dipper remembered how distraught Bill felt about the incident, but now… with him, laying there with Dipper, Bill actually never looked happier, content.

“I was thinking…” Dipper began slowly, moving his hand to thumb just below the stitches, “I was thinking about a lot of things really.”

Bill hummed, “But what specifically?” Bill could feel Dipper’s chest rise and fall slowly, but he was close enough to Dipper’s heart that he could practically hear it beating hard.

“Specifically… I was thinking about you,” Dipper answered honestly, moving his hand away to rest on the bed. He  watched as Bill hoisted himself upwards, and their bodies were perfectly aligned, Bill’s weight pushing Dipper deeper into the mattress. Bill planted his elbows on either side of Dipper’s shoulders and he looked down at the man below him.

“I’m honored that you would write such a beautiful chapter with me in mind,” Bill smiled, and Dipper couldn’t help but smile back.

“Who else would I have been thinking about?”

“Mabel, perhaps?”

“I love her, but not like that Bill.”

“What about that Northwest girl?”

“Pacifica? No way!”

“How about the girl that was flirting with you on the train here?”

‘What? She wasn’t flirting with me.”

“You’re getting defensive.”

“No I’m not!”

“So you were thinking about her then.”

Dipper groaned, rubbing his eyes. Bill laughed aloud, and he dropped to nuzzle against Dipper’s neck, “I’m only teasing you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dipper huffed, and he rolled himself over. It was his turn to laugh then when Bill toppled off of him ungracefully, collapsing into the covers beside Dipper. They now laid mere inches apart, Dipper on the right side of the bed while Bill was on the left side, their legs tangled comfortably. Dipper’s hand found Bill’s, and their fingers laced together between them.

“When will you bring the story to the publisher?” Bill inquired.

“Next week probably,” Dipper gave it some thought. “There’s still some things that need to be changed or fixed.”

“So I only have you to myself for a week then,” Bill sighed.

Dipper rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to be going anywhere.”

“Oh but you will!” Bill tutted. “Just wait and see! Dipper Pines’ infamous first published book will make headlines across the nation! Next thing you know you’ll be traveling to every state doing book signings and lectures.”

“Infamous? I doubt that’ll happen honestly.”

“It will!”

“Can you see it in the future?”

“Maybe!”

“Bill, I swear,” Dipper made to roll over, but Bill held him fast by the waist.

“Hey! Don’t go anywhere, we have to make this week count! That includes every second of every minute of every day.”

Dipper gave in, deciding to let Bill entertain the idea, and placed a quick kiss on Bill’s lips before getting up from the bed. Bill whined, but Dipper ignored it as he picked up his stack of papers and went to put them on his desk. He stopped though when he reached the window, taking a moment to peer at the outside world.

The sun had finally set, but the sky was still lit, the sun’s setting light hitting the clouds just so. It gave off a beautiful golden color, and Dipper couldn’t help but to just stand there, looking at the sky. Arms found their way around Dipper’s waist, and Bill rested his chin on Dipper’s shoulder, hugging the man close to him.

“It’s pretty isn’t it?” he said solemnly. “It reminds me of Facciata Maniero.”

Dipper’s eyebrows drew together slightly. “The mansion? How so?”

Bill sighed. “Before Tad came into my life, the forest around the mansion was actually safe to travel into. When I was younger, I would go explore the forest by myself for hours. My parents were often too busy to even notice my absence, so I went there often just to get out. One day, I went so far that I reached the edge of the forest. I remember that the sun was just beginning to set as I came out into a large clearing, rolling hills as far as the eye could see. The light from the sky made those hills look beautiful. I called it the Golden Hills.”

Dipper’s breathing hitched and his eyes went wide. “You… called it what?”

Bill stood up behind Dipper, but his arms were still wrapped around the man. “I called it Golden Hills because every time I went there, the sunset made the hills look like they were made from gold. It’s a silly thing I know, but the name stuck.”

Golden Hills. Remnants of past nightmares came flooding back to Dipper, nightmares and warnings of a place called golden hills. He had gone straight to the place he was told not to go, all without his knowing. He let out a startled laugh, accidentally dropping all of the pages he was holding. He continued to laugh, and he couldn’t stop laughing. He laughed until tears swelled in his eyes, and Bill spun him around. There was a worried look on his face, but it only for a moment as Dipper crashed his lips to Bill’s, kissing the man hard. Even through the kisses Dipper laughed, he just couldn’t help it. “Dipper what is the matter?” Bill asked in between the kisses, and Dipper pulled back to wipe away his tears.

“I just remembered the craziest thing, Bill,” Dipper said, his laughter finally subsiding a bit.

“Care to share during dinner?” Bill suggested. Dipper nodded, and he let himself be dragged by Bill out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

  


The room fell into silence then. Outside the golden skies finally turned dark, the empty room now illuminated by just a few candles scattered about. The candle’s flames flickered in and out suddenly, like a gust of wind had blown through the room. But the window was closed shut tight, no wind could possibly come from it. There was the sound of someone walking lightly, going in the direction of the fallen pages. Slowly, the pages began to move, getting stacked back up in their original order before Dipper had dropped them. Minutes later, the pages were completely and neatly put back, the stack resting right in front of the window. There were more footstep noises, and suddenly the bedroom door slowly opened. The footsteps stopped, and all was silent again. Nothing happened for a moment, but then there was a gruff, familiar voice that spoke.

_‘No point in burning down another house.’_

Then, all the candles were blown out at the same time, plunging the room into darkness. The voice spoke again.

_‘Forget what I said Cipher, you better not break his heart.’_

And with that, the bedroom door closed. And the room was silent once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, Golden Hills is completed. I found that including a piece of Dipper's book would be very fitting, since the beginning of his relationship with Bill started because of his writing. :')
> 
> It's been one hell of a road everyone, thank you all so, so much for reading! It's been so awesome to see just how many people enjoyed reading this story and it's honestly just a really amazing and humbling feeling :) I can't say it enough, but really, thank you so much ♡. I reread the story and just holy cow, there's quite a bit that needs some fixin' up, so I'll probably go through it all again and fix those errors in the near future. If there's any questions you still have about the story, I'll be happy to answer them all!
> 
> I have two more stories in the works, The Price of Beauty and another one [HINT: Here's the title of it, which kind of gives away a bit of the plot but not too much: Uxqdzdb Jurrp], so definitely be on the look out for those! Also, I'm opening up for writing prompts on my tumblr, ladyvivion, which will now be my personal tumblr instead of just place I'll post stories. So, if that's something you'd like, I would be more than happy to do just that for y'all. 
> 
> Anywho, again, thank you all so much for joining this ride with me! Here's to a happy 2016!
> 
> \- V


End file.
